


Vas Bellicosum

by CombatTombat



Series: Imperator [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: But it's my story, F/M, I promise, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Percy semi-raised by Lupa, Percy's a badass in this, actually, almost everyone is a badass in this, also it's hella AU, roman!Percy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-10-07 11:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 69,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17364698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CombatTombat/pseuds/CombatTombat
Summary: War is coming to New Rome. When a Son of Neptune, Percy Jackson, arrives at the camp, no one knows what to expect, least of all Jason Grace, his newly found cousin. Determined to survive the coming bloodshed, the legion adapts to this new and dangerous duo. With a dark future on the horizon, only the Fates know what is coming.Originally posted on Fanfiction.Net





	1. Chapter One

**_Jason_ **

 

“Lady Lupa!” Julia exclaimed in surprise. Jason looked up from the stake he had been working on. He hadn’t seen Lupa in nearly six years, just after his fifth birthday, when she sent him to Camp Jupiter. The She-Wolf was standing tall and proud as usual, a boy standing by her side. He looked to be Jason’s age, maybe a little older, and his eyes scanned the Campus Martius for any threats. Jason had been the same when he first arrived. “To what do we owe the honour?”

 

“I bring a new recruit for the legion,” she stated, “consider my word to be his recommendations.”

 

“Of course, Lady Lupa,” Julia bowed slightly, “and who is the recruit?”

 

By now, a large majority of the legion had stopped what they were doing to watch the proceedings. Maria, co-praetor and Julia’s girlfriend ambled over, her fingers thrumming on the pommel of her gladius.

 

“This is Perseus Jackson, son of Neptune,” Lupa said, and someone gasped in shock. Jason blinked several times.

 

“Perseus…” Maria tested the name, “that’s Greek.”

 

“It is his name, nothing more!” Lupa snapped, “Roman blood flows through his veins, and it is the blood of Neptune. It would be wise not to upset to lord of storms, especially not so close to the sea.”

 

“How long have you trained him, Lady Lupa?” Julia stepped in to defuse the situation.

 

“Six years,” the wolf-goddess replied simply, “at his father’s request. But it is time he joined the legion. I can teach him no more.”

 

“Six years? Jupiter’s balls! How is the kid still alive?” Someone hissed, causing several others to snicker. Lupa’s ears flicked, a sign Jason had learned meant that she had heard whatever had been said. The son of Neptune—Perseus—sighed deeply, making Jason wonder if he had heard what they said as well.

 

“We will introduce him to the centurions shortly, my lady,” Maria said, “but if we may first get a glimpse at his skills?”

 

Lupa didn’t reply, instead turning to Perseus. He shrugged.

 

“Very well,” she said, “he will fight Jason Grace. They are of an age.”

 

“My lady, are you sure—” Maria tried.

 

“I was not asking for permission, Praetor,” Lupa growled, “Perseus will fight Jason. It is my command.”

 

“Of course, my lady,” Maria said, though her tone was clipped. “Grab two _rudii_ and—”

 

“No,” Lupa interrupted again, “they both have swords. Let them use them.”

 

“Mother Lupa—” Perseus tried. Jason had never heard anyone address her that way.

 

“Do you wish to argue me as well, Percy?” Lupa’s voice had an amused tinge to it. The son of Neptune didn’t reply. “I thought not. Besides, is this not what mortal boys do? Show off their toys?”

 

“You literally told me it _wasn’t_ a toy twenty minutes ago,” Perseus—Percy—whatever his name was, noted.

 

“That was twenty minutes ago. This is now,” Perseus groaned at the expression. He must have heard it before. Lupa had said it once to him as well, when he asked why he was learning a sword technique he hadn’t been allowed to learn the day before. “Go on now, pup. You have a legion to impress.”

 

Perseus strode forward, the large signet ring on his right hand expanding into the most beautiful sword that Jason had ever seen. It was a _gladius hispaniensis,_ the earliest form of Gladius the Romans knew of. The hand-guard and pommel were made of Imperial gold, and Jason could just barely make out engraved lines in the metal. The sword itself seemed to be a composite of Imperial Gold and what looked like Adamantine, thus making it deadly to both mortals and monsters alike. That also made it doubly dangerous to any demigod.

 

Jason flipped _Ivlivs_ , snatching the sword out of the air once it formed. He had finally managed to get that particular trick down, but now wasn’t the time to crow over it. The legion formed a circle around the two, creating a makeshift arena. Shields were given to those standing in the front rows, creating a studier wall between them.

 

“The match goes until either I or Julia call it,” Maria stated, “and if we do, you are to desist right away and retreat ten paces. Am I understood?”

 

“Ma’am,” Perseus nodded.

 

“Understood,” Jason affirmed.

 

“Good. Then begin.”

 

The two started circling each other. Jason wasn’t sure how Perseus fought, so he didn’t want to be the first to find out. Perseus didn’t have such compunctions. He strode forward, his blade flicking slightly as he moved, the tip doing tiny circles in the air. When he was maybe three feet from Jason, he suddenly jerked to his right

 

Jason followed the movement but realised his mistake too late. Perseus cut back, moving towards Jason’s open right side. His blade snapped forward, and it was only by throwing himself out of the way did he prevent getting his ribcage sliced open. Jason decided to try a different tactic. He rushed forward, before diving into a roll, popping up right under Perseus’ chin. He came straight up, but the son of Neptune shifted slightly, before closing his arms around Jason’s waist. He felt a slight heave and he was in the air. Then he was slamming into the ground. He heard the ‘ooh’s’ from the assembled legion. He rolled to his right and thrust his elbow down, hitting sand, before Perseus came rolling back, driving his own fist right into Jason’s kidney He grunted before slamming his arm back again, this time catching Perseus in the jaw.

 

They both rolled away from each other before shooting to their feet. Swords were drawn again, and while Jason felt an ache every time he moved, the blood that Perseus spat out gave him _some_ satisfaction. They began circling one another again, but this time, they moved as one when they attacked. Their swords collided hard enough for sparks to fly, and were they made of any other metal, they would have been dented by the impact.

 

Each strike was parried, each blow redirected. They were getting nowhere, and they both knew it.

 

“You’re good,” Perseus muttered under his breath, “better than anyone I’ve fought before.”

 

“Fought many demigods, have you?” Jason asked. Perseus chuckled.

 

“Mermen and water spirits,” he answered, “this is my first time meeting _any_ demigods.”

 

That almost made Jason pause. Did that mean he had been alone when he was with Lupa? He couldn’t imagine something so lonely. Another strike was parried, this one Jason’s, and they backed off from each other, trying to find some new opening. There weren’t any. Jason had to agree with Perseus’ assessment. He was much better than any of the other demigods he had fought—even the older ones. Neither Maria nor Julia, normally his toughest opponents, reached Perseus’ level of skill.

 

Another series of attacks were fought off, and Jason found himself more and more impressed with his cousin. It was an odd thought, but since Perseus was the son of his uncle, more so than anyone else at Camp Jupiter, they were family. He wondered what that would change.

 

“All right, cease!” Maria called out, and they both stepped back. “First of all, that was amazing. Second of all, Perseus—”

 

“Percy,” he interrupted, “people only call me Perseus when I’m in trouble or are trying to kill me.”

 

Maria blinked at the statement, clearly not used to being interrupted, but nodded.

 

“ _Percy_ ,” she emphasized, “did you really suplex Jason?”

 

“It was instinct,” he answered, before grinning, “but yeah, I did.”

 

“That wouldn’t work in a real fight, but I’m impressed with the speed with which you reacted,” Maria admitted. “I think we’re going to have some fun with you, Percy Jackson.”

 

“Centurions!” Julia called out. The crowd parted as five men and women pushed their way to the front.

 

Michaela Haley was the _Primus Pilus_ , the Centurion of the First Cohort, and the legions most senior officer under the Praetors. Norman Cross was the _Pilus Posterior,_ the Centurion of the Second. Then there was Daniel Tan, the _Princeps Prior_ , Centurion of the Third. He was followed by Tony Giles, the Centurion of the Fourth, also known as the _Princeps Posterior_. Finally, there was Abigail Jones, the _Hastatus Prior,_ the Centurion of the Fifth, and lowest ranking officer in the legion.

 

“We have a potential recruit here, Percy Jackson, Son of Neptune,” Julia said, “you just watched him fight our very own Jason Grace, Son of Jupiter. Now, the choice must be made for which cohort he is to join. Bear in mind, in lieu of recommendation letters, we instead have Lady Lupa’s endorsement of the potential legionary. You have five minutes to discuss and decide.”

 

It didn’t take Tony Giles five seconds before he stepped forward.

 

“We made our decision already, Praetor,” he said, “the Fourth will take Percy Jackson into our cohort as a _probatio_ _tirone_. Once his first year is up, we will induct him into the legion proper.”

 

“And you all agree to this?” Maria asked the others, who nodded. “Very well, _probatio_ Jackson goes to the Fourth.”

 

There were no cheers or jeers like when Jason had joined the Fifth, but instead, someone began rapping their fist against their scutum, and the sound filled the _Campus Martius_. Tony Giles strolled over to Percy, grabbing his chin gently and moving it from side to side.

 

“Let’s get you to a medic, Probie,” he said, before turning to Jason. “Good elbow, kid.”

 

Percy let himself be led away by his new Centurion, following silently. That was when Jason noticed the tattoo on the inside of his arm, the SPQR, and six bars. How he had already gotten that, Jason didn’t know, but he suspected Lupa had something to do with it. Still, he was a _probatio_ , and he would be getting his tablet soon enough. More than anything else, however, Jason was eager to meet with his cousin properly, and find out what he could about him.

 

Michaela came over once the legion began splitting back into cohorts.

 

“You alright?” She asked, “I’ve never seen you fight that hard before.”

 

“Truthfully, ma’am, I’ve never had to,” he admitted. “Lady Lupa trained him very well. I’ve no doubt he’d be able to kill many before they realised what a threat he was.”

 

“Is that so?” Michaela hummed, “well, it’s up to Tony to teach him to fight in formation. Let’s see how that goes, at least. How’s your side? That looked like a wicked punch.”

 

“Sore,” he said, “I’ll probably need to soak in the baths before icing it some, but it shouldn’t be _too_ bad.”

 

“Get to it then, _legionarius_ Grace,” Michaela grinned at him, “we’ve got a war game in a week, and we’re up against the Third and Fourth. I’m eager to see what happens between you and your cousin.”

 

So Jason _wasn’t_ the only one who had tied Percy to him via family bonds. That was good to know at least.

 

“You have the rest of the day off to relax and heal,” she continued, “but you’re back to work tomorrow morning, understood?”

 

“Crystal, ma’am.” He replied.

 

“Good. Go get some rest, Jason,” she said, “if your side is worse tomorrow, let me know, okay?”

 

“Of course,” he smiled at her, before making his way towards the barracks. He would change out of his clothes into swim trunks and a tank top before making his way to the baths. Better to do so in clean clothes than in sweaty ones. He had been yelled at by Terminus the last time he did that, and he didn’t want a repeat performance.

 

But when he arrived at the barracks, the longing for a shower became overwhelming, screwing his time table by ten minutes. That meant there’d by more people in the baths by the time he arrived. Styx, that hadn’t been what he wanted. Jason held in a groan and made his way there regardless. He really did need to soak in the warm water.

 

The Bathhouses were starting to fill up when he arrived, so he slipped to a side door and went to one of the smaller, lesser known buildings. It was more of a hot-tub, which was why most people avoided it. When he arrived, there were two others present in the bath, both staring at a spot in the centre. They looked up at his arrival. They were both _probatio_ ’s, though they were from two different Cohorts. Reyna hadn’t explained _how_ she got to New Rome, but she had letters of recommendation that got her into the Second Cohort. Leila came from a family of New Romans, and she had been snagged up by the Fourth when she first joined, her family’s traditional cohort since the days of Julius Caesar himself.

 

“Ladies,” he greeted, slipping into the water and letting out a content sigh. “What’s so interesting about the middle of the pool?”

 

“Percy’s there!” Leila chirped, “he went under five minutes ago, and he’s just sitting there. He waved at me a moment ago.”

 

“Five minutes?” Jason blinked. Reyna nodded slowly.

 

“He saw us come in and then just… slipped down. Is he antisocial?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” he shrugged, “I’ve only fought him. Maybe he is?”

 

“I’m not antisocial,” the amused voice of the son of Neptune said, his face just barely breaking the surface of the water, “I was getting some peace and quiet. Lupa ran me ragged to get here.”

 

The rest of his body rose above the water, and Jason noticed several jagged scars across his arms, chest, and back, almost like… almost like he had been whipped. He wasn’t the only one to notice them, as both the other girls had recoiled in surprise, Leila even letting out a little squeak.

 

“What happened to you?” Reyna was the only one brave enough to ask, it seemed, “did a monster do that to you?”

 

Percy laughed, but there was no humour behind it.

 

“I suppose,” he said, “the one thing I learned long before I became aware of my heritage is that not all monsters are mythological.”

 

And then he sank below the water once more, several large bubbles rising to the surface.

 

“I think we scared him off,” Leila said quietly.

 

“Should… should I have not asked him?” Reyna sounded unsure.

 

“Maybe not,” Jason admitted to her, “but you did, and he answered, in a way. I’d leave it alone beyond that. But he could use some friends, I bet. I think we stand the best chance of becoming them at the moment.”

 

“I hate how smart you are,” Leila groaned.

 

Jason grinned. If there was one thing he hated, it was bullies, and Percy had clearly suffered under someone. If he needed a friend, Jason would be here for him. He was family, and Lupa always said that families made the strongest packs. Jason would be Percy’s pack.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's first week with the legion doesn't exactly... go as planned

**_Percy_ **

 

“Why does he have a tattoo already?” A _probatio_ from the First complained, “he’s only been here for three days!”

 

“The Lady Lupa granted it to him, Octavian,” Centurion Michaela snapped, “so be quiet, unless you wish to question the wisdom of the Mother of Rome?”

 

“N-no of course not!” The blonde boy choked out, “I was simply noting the irregularity, _Primus Pilus_.”

 

“Life is full of irregularities, _probatio_ ,” Michaela said, “as the future auger, you should become accustomed to them.

 

This was the third time Percy had heard such a conversation, and it was starting to annoy him now. Everywhere he went, someone felt the need to point out the fact that he had the standard tattoo _and_ a _probatio_ tablet. Apparently, that was far too confusing for most to grasp. Tony had told him that the others were just jealous. Even Jason had to wait before he was given his tattoo, but all his years with Lupa and then as a messenger for the legion had been added, giving him a few more lines than Percy himself had. No one complained about Jason though, because gods forbid someone upset the son of Jupiter.

 

Not that Percy had anything against his cousin. In fact, he was probably closest with Jason out of anyone in the legion, and that included the legionaries in his cohort. Three days had been long enough for him to decide that Jason was the best person in the legion by far. For a son of Jupiter, his ambition was remarkably checked, instead focusing on service to the legion. Beyond that, however, he was just… good. The problem that Percy had with that was the fact that while Jason was good, the legion just wasn’t. It was a horrible mess of politics and military tradition merged together in the most unproductive manner possible. Jason just didn’t see it, or if he did, he ignored it. That was a dangerous thing to do.

 

“You’re Percy, right?” Someone asked behind him, and he turned to see a tall, broad Hawaiian boy leaning against a stake.

 

“I am,” he confirmed, “you’re… Michael, right? Son of Venus? First Cohort isn’t it?”

 

Michael grinned at him, “got it in one. You’re pretty good with a sword. Care for a spar?”

 

“Don’t see why not,” Percy said with a shrug, snatching a _rudis_ and wicker shield from one of the many racks on the field.

 

The _rudis_ was made of wood and had a heavy lead core. It was designed so that soldiers would get used to moving with a heavier blade than what they actually used, which in turn made them _much_ faster with a gladius. The wicker scutum served the same purpose, with the added bonus of not breaking when the heavy training swords slammed against them.

 

He and Michael circled each other for a moment before he moved forward, slamming his shield to Michael’s and shoot the gladius out, hoping to go through a slim gap he had forced. Michael simply brought his shield back in, and Percy yanked his blade back before it was torn from his grasp. He side-stepped a strike and lashed out, rapping Michael on the back of his knuckles. To his credit, the Son of Venus didn’t so much as flinch, instead flicking his wrist to the side and batting Percy’s sword away.

 

“You’re better than I thought,” Percy admitted, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you are from the First.”

 

“And you’re far better than I was told,” Michael returned, lunging forward to slam him with his shield. Percy spun out of the way and smacked Michael’s calf with the flat of the _rudis_ , forcing a limp on him. “Six years with Lupa, was it? Who’d you spar with during that time?”

 

“Depended on the sparring,” he answered, “if it was with weapons, it was against mermen and water spirits, courtesy of my father.” He ducked under another strike. “If it was hand to hand, it was the wolves. Sometimes more than one at once. It could be fun, or it could be absolutely horrible. It depended on the day.”

 

“What’s it like wrestling wolves?”

“Pretty much how you imagine it would go,” Percy leaned back, Michael’s _rudis_ just barely missing his neck, “they’re magical wolves too, which made it _that_ much worse.”

 

Percy practically dropped his shield to cut off a low stab but didn’t bother counter-attacking. Michael’s shield was still covering his body. He shoved the larger boy back. Well, no he didn’t, Percy shoved _himself_ off of Michael, clearing some extra space between them.

 

“Were you trained in your powers?” Michael asked next, and Percy noticed his breathing was starting to get heavy.

 

“Yep,” he answered simply.

 

“So what can you do?”

 

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” he said, “you’re not being very subtle about trying to find out what you can about me. Did your centurion order this?”

 

“Yes, but I’m curious as well,” Michael replied, “and what’s the point in trying to trick you? You caught on pretty quickly to what I was doing. You would’ve stopped talking if you didn’t want me to know anything.”

 

“Good observation,” Percy said, “we should spar again sometime. You’re pretty good.”

 

“You’re certainly better than anyone I’ve ever fought,” Michael replied, setting his shield down, “I wouldn’t mind a rematch sometime either.”

 

“It’s settled then,” Percy grinned, “we’ll spar again sometime.”

 

He turned to return the _rudis_ and scutum to the rack when he noticed that most of the drills around them had paused to watch the fight. He felt the back of his neck heat up, but quickly replaced the weapons he had taken. He started to weave his way through the crowd to make his way to the barracks when someone reached out from the crowd and grabbed his arm. He didn’t mean to react the way he did, but instinct kicked in.

 

He counter-grabbed the arm that had a grip on him before flipping the person over his shoulder. His arm cocked back, but he paused when he saw Reyna underneath him.

 

“Jackson!” Praetor Maria bellowed, “what do you think you’re doing?”

 

“It’s my fault, Praetor,” Reyna immediately said as she rose to her feet, “I grabbed him out of nowhere.”

 

“That’s not the point,” Maria said, “you’re among friends now, Jackson. You can’t just attack anyone who touches you.”

 

“My apologies, Praetor,” Percy said stiffly, “my training with Lupa sometimes overrides my other senses. I will work better on suppressing six years of muscle memory.”

 

Maria narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t care for your tone, Jackson,” she warned him, “don’t let it happen again.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he said, before pushing his through the crowd, which was once more watching him. He withheld a scream.

 

_**Reyna** _

Reyna watched him push his way through the crowd and sighed. She hadn’t meant to startle him, but she also hadn’t expected to be flung over his shoulder the moment she touched him.

 

“Are you alright?” Maria asked her.

 

“It really was my fault, Praetor,” Reyna said again, “I should have known better than to do that right after a sparring match.”

 

“And that’s still not the point,” Maria told her, “Percy’s spent six years with Lupa, and he’s spent the entire time training. Everything he knows pertains to war in some form or another. Julia, Tony and I are trying to get him used to civilian life. He’s getting more leave than any other legionary, and he spends it here, in the arena. We’re out of ideas on how to keep him in the city.”

 

“Why not ask Jason?” She suggested, “they’re really close now. He’ll have some idea on how to keep Percy away from the Field of Mars.”

 

“That’s… not a bad idea actually,” Maria conceded, “you’re a smart girl, Reyna. You’ll be an officer in no time. I’m sure of it.”

 

The next day, Reyna found herself roped into a tour of New Rome along with Percy and Jason, led by Leila. While Jason had been in the city for six years, Percy and Reyna had been in it for less than and only a week, respectively. Leila had grown up in it, and she knew _every_ location that could possibly be found. The daughter of Ceres led them around, showing them café’s, stores, parks, everything that she could. It all went well until they showed up at Temple Hill.

 

They had just left the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus when Percy detached from the group, drawn towards a little shack to the side. Leila turned to see where he was going and her face paled. He pushed the door open and then froze in the threshold. He stayed there for a moment before walking further into the shack.

 

“What is that?” Jason asked with a frown, “I’ve never seen it before.”

 

“That’s, uh, well, you see,” Leila mumbled, “that’s the shrine to Neptune.”

 

Oh. _Oh_. Yeah, this wasn’t really the best thing for Percy to find, Reyna thought. Jason followed Percy in, and stiffened.

 

“Is this a joke?” She heard Percy ask his cousin. “Jupiter gets a temple the size of a freaking fortress, and my father gets this tiny _shack_?”

 

“Percy—” Leila tried, but he turned and shoved his way past them.

 

“Oh, look at this,” a squeaky voice crowed, “the son of Neptune found his fathers’ shrine.”

 

Reyna closed her eyes. Octavian was here. Percy stopped mid-stride.

 

“Rather fitting, isn’t it?” The legacy of Apollo asked with a malicious grin. “After all, what use do we have for a god whose descendant _destroyed_ our original camp.

 

“Percy, breathe,” she heard Jason say, and when she turned, she saw that his fists were clenched tightly. “Octavian, I’m sure you have somewhere else to be sickly, and it isn’t here.”

 

“I resent that,” Octavian said, “I simply came to give thanks to the _worthiest_ of Olympians, Jupiter Optimus Maximus, your _father_.”

 

“Are you suggesting that the other Olympians aren’t worthy, Octavian?” Leila challenged him.

 

“Not at all,” he blinked, “just that we Romans have always known to respect the _superior_ gods on Oly—”

 

He never finished his sentence. A thunderclap filled the sky and made him stop. Around them, the winds began picking up, and clouds that hadn’t been present rolled into the skies above the cove.

 

“Percy, you need to calm down,” Jason pleaded, and unsurprisingly, the son of Neptune’s face was contorted in a scowl. “Percy, please—”

 

“Check!” A voice snapped, and everything stopped at once. The winds settled, and the clouds dispersed. A tall, lithe woman was stalking towards them, and Reyna didn’t know who it was until she saw the eyes.

 

She didn’t even know that Lupa had a human form before now. The She-Wolf was wearing a toga and had a circlet in her hair made of silver. There was a bracelet on each wrist, wolves leaping at each other.

 

“To insult an Olympian not only in front of his son, but his temple?” Lupa was staring at Octavian, who shrunk under the glare. “If you were not Rome’s next Auger, Neptune would have struck you down for your impertinence, and Jupiter would have let him. They are _brothers_ , after all, young Octavian.”

 

“Lady Lupa, I would _never_ —” Octavian tried.

 

“Silence!” She cut him off, “do you think I am not aware what you said? Temples are conduits for the gods, and you spoke in front of them all. Bellona, Pluto, Mars Ultor, even Jupiter himself heard your words. Since you feel the need to tarnish the name of the gods, you will have to defend your right via combat. As you targeted Neptune, he has selected his son to represent him in these matters. Tomorrow at the Coliseum, the two of you shall duel.”

 

“Surely I can select a champion to represent myself, Lady Lupa!” Octavian pleaded, “I am not healthy at the moment!”

 

Reyna was certain she heard Jason cough ‘ever’ under his breath, but she couldn’t be certain. Lupa, likewise, didn’t seem to care much for Octavian’s defence.

 

“It will be you,” she told him, “if you wish to insult a god, you must face the consequences. Mercury is informing the Praetors at this very moment, and Mars is addressing the legion. It will be a rather important event.”

 

She started to glow, forcing them all to look away. Once it was safe to look, she was gone, leaving them all alone. Octavian was pale, and his compatriots seemed nervous. Percy, on the other hand, had a grin that reminded her of a wolf. Of Lupa.

 

“I look forward to our bout, Octavian,” he said with a mock bow, “the First Cohort is comprised of the best, or so I am told. I look forward to seeing how you represent your cohort in the field of battle. I do have a parting gift for you, however.”

 

“Perseus please! I didn’t mean—” Octavian was cut off again, this time by Percy’s fist slamming into his jaw.

 

“That’s for my father, _Stultus_ ,” He said, before stalking off.

 

“I did warn you,” Jason sighed, before following his cousin. Leila had already left, chasing after Percy, and Reyna felt the need to do the same thing.

 

“Try not to embarrass yourself too badly, Octavian,” she said, “it would be awful for your cohort.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that technically Reyna doesn't show up at Camp Jupiter until she's thirteen, but I want her present for the story from the beginning.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila learns something about Percy, and Jason begins to understand exactly what kind of person his cousin is.

_**Leila** _

 

The Coliseum was packed. The entire legion was in attendance, as was half of New Rome. Lupa herself was in the Praetors box, lounging in a chair in human form with a blank expression on her face. Sitting next to her was Octavian’s grandfather, the current Auger. His face was blank too, but Leila liked to think that he was panicking internally. Tony had told her that Percy punching Octavian in the face hadn’t done him any favours with his family. But he had also told her that they were under no illusions what would happen if they interfered.

 

Leila had also heard that Michaela Haley was furious with Octavian, and he had been given stable duties for the next two months, even if he _somehow_ won the match. Tony, on the other hand, had _roared_ with laughter when he heard what Percy had done to Octavian, and promoted him to the third squad in the Cohort, moving him closer to the fighting line. He was still too young to serve in the front line, of course, but the third line was a fantastic spot for a probatio. It also meant that he was now in Leila’s squad, which she liked. Percy was a funny person most of the time, and he absolutely hated bullies, which made him a good friend to have.

 

All that said, she had been more than surprised when he asked her to be his second.

 

“It has to be someone from my cohort,” he explained, “and I trust you more than anyone else.”

 

That had touched her, and she had readily agreed. Percy had surprised her further when he revealed the armour he would be wearing. It was a full set of Imperial Gold armour, which was incredibly rare in the legion, but furthermore, it was officers armour. The muscled cuirass was adorned with symbols related to Neptune and Jupiter. The main focus was a trident with crossing lightning bolts behind it. The greaves covered his shins to his knees, and the vambraces went from wrist to elbow. The helmet was a standard Galea, though it did have a blackened face-mask attached to it. The fact that it all fit him so well surprised her even more, so she asked him about it.

 

“It was a gift from my brother,” he said shyly, “Triton. He said he wanted our father to be represented properly, so he gave me this set. It belonged to Sextus Pompey, but it was sacrificed to my father by Agrippa in thanks for his victory against him. It’s enchanted to fit me always, so it grows with me.”

 

“Was the sword his as well?” She asked.

 

“No, this belonged to another general,” he replied, and the _buccina_ sounded as the gate rumbled open. He grinned at her. “It’s called _Crocea Mors_.”

 

Then his helmet was slipped on, and he was walking out, leaving a thoroughly stunned Leila in his wake. Tony Giles slipped to her side, a canteen held loosely in his left hand, the cap unscrewed. The only reason she noticed was because she needed to focus on _something_ after the bomb Percy had just dropped on her.

 

“Nice armour. Where’d he get it?”

 

“Family gift,” she answered numbly. “He’s wielding _Crocea Mors_.”

 

Tony choked on the water he had been sipping.

 

“You’re certain?”

 

“He just told me.”

 

“Gods be good, he’s going to destroy Octavian.” Tony muttered, “now, what do you know about the armour, because that’s an officer’s set if I’ve ever seen one.”

 

“He said it belonged to Sextus Pompey, but it had been sacrificed to his father,” she repeated. “And that it was Triton who gave it to him for this match.”

 

“Jupiter’s Throne! They’re thoroughly invested in humiliating Octavian.” He exclaimed.

 

“Wouldn’t you?” She asked him.

 

“I suppose so,” he sighed. “This should be interesting, if short.”

 

“I, uh, I don’t think it’ll be short, sir,” she told him slowly.

 

“Why not?”

 

“I think Percy’s planning on picking him apart, sir. He’s furious at Octavian. Punching him in the face was only the beginning for him, I think. This is to start a feud between our cohorts.”

 

“Michaela and I already cleared up any ill-will,” Tony said.

 

“And what happens after you both retire, and Percy and Octavian are going at it, sir?” Leila was being bold, and she knew it, but she needed to reinforce this point. If she could see it coming, anyone else could too. “Respectfully sir, you have three years left in your service. Who do you think is going to succeed you?”

 

“Oh, it’ll be Percy, no doubt about that,” he sighed, “ _faex_. All right, we’ll just have to weather this as best we can, I suppose. I’ll talk with Michaela again after the match, which should be beginning right about… now.”

 

Leila shifted her attention to the arena, where Julia had just finished declaring the rules. They were simple—The fight went until either the Praetor’s called it, or one of the fighters was physically unable to continue. She lowered her hand, and the _buccina_ sounded again. Octavian charged wildly at Percy only to be clotheslined, slamming into the ground. Percy just backed away and settled into a boxing stance, hands swaying loosely in front of his head. Octavian clambered to his feet among the jeers of the legion, and when he noticed how Percy was standing, his face twisted into a mixture between a scowl and a grin. He moved forward again, his blade snapping out towards Percy, who blocked it with his vambrace before reaching out and grabbing Octavian’s wrist, stripping the blade from him, and throwing it to the other side of the arena.

 

Octavian blinked in surprise, but before he could do anything else, Percy had done the same thing with his shield before shoving in the chest hard, sending him stumbling backwards as Percy settled back into his stance. Michaela, the _Primus Pilus_ , or First File Centurion, was in the booth across from them with Octavian’s second, Michael Kahale. Both of them had their faces buried in their hands, but it was the charm hanging from the centurion’s wrist that caught her attention. It was a dove, the symbol of Aphrodite, but she was a daughter of Bellona. In fact, it matched the ring that Tony had. _A gift from a friend_ , he had told them, something no one had questioned—until now, at least.

 

“She’s your girlfriend,” she suddenly realised, and Tony jerked beside her. “That’s why you don’t think there’ll be any problems.”

 

“How did you figure that out?”

“She’s got a matching bracelet to the ring you wear,” she motioned to his hand, “and you told me that it was something important to you. Unless this is a Star Wars situation, and she’s actually your sister?”

 

“Gods no!” He laughed, “you were right the first time. But yeah, that’s why we thought there weren’t going to be any issues. We were about to tell everyone when _this_ happened,” he motioned towards Percy who was taunting Octavian loudly, “so we decided to wait, let feelings cool off a little. Julia and Maria know, of course.”

 

“Of course,” she repeated quietly. She couldn’t see Percy’s face, the blank face-mask blocking his features, but she imagined he was smiling like a fool at the moment.

 

Octavian had no choice but to engage Percy in hand to hand, raising his own shakily in front of him. He moved slowly once more, though this was clearly due to fear than any strategy. Percy just waited for him, weaving slightly as he stood. Finally, Octavian gave a wide, clearly telegraphed right hook going towards him. Leila winced.

 

“This is where it gets ugly,” she muttered, and Tony just hummed in agreement.

 

_**Jason** _

Jason flinched at Percy’s counter to the wild swing. He ducked under it, a tight right-handed uppercut catching Octavian in the gut, his left-hand splaying against the legacy’s shoulder as he shoved him forward, sending him crashing to the sand a second time. Percy just backed away again, letting Octavian rise to his feet. The Legacy of Apollo was swaying heavily on his feet, breathing heavily. Beside him, Maria let out a quiet breath.

 

“This isn’t going to end well,” she murmured, “what’s he doing, Jason?”

 

“Ma’am?” he blinked in surprise.

 

“You heard me,” she repeated, voice still low, though Lupa was clearly listening, as was Reyna, directly to Maria’s left.

 

“He’s… Octavian insulted his father, Praetor,” Jason said, “beyond the standard offence Percy took, his loyalty to his father is… well, it’s rock solid. He doesn’t harbour anything but love and respect for him. To Percy, this is a very deep, very personal issue. Octavian didn’t just insult his father—this was an insult to Percy, to Triton, Salacia, every deity whose realms overlap with Neptune’s. This is retribution for the sea, not just for him. That’s why he’s picking him apart slowly. It’s not what he’s doing—”

 

“It’s the message that’s being sent to the others,” Julia interrupted, causing Maria to look to her co-Praetor. Below them, Percy blocked another of Octavian’s wild punches, hitting him a single jab in the nose. When he looked to the Praetor’s box for some form of help, Jason saw that his nose was already bleeding. “The fight continues!”

 

The look of horror on Octavian’s face would forever be one of Jason’s favourite memories. What followed was… less so. Percy had clearly decided that he had toyed with Octavian long enough, and when the next series of poorly executed punches came his way, he retaliated with brutal efficiency. He blocked a left hook and crossed with his own left hand simultaneously, catching Octavian in the nose again, but he wasn’t finished. Percy’s right hand came forward in a rapid series of three jabs before dropping said hand to hold onto Octavian’s harness as he pummelled his face over and over again. After ten seconds, he pulled Octavian up, tore his helmet off with his other hand and threw it away before pulling the legacy of Apollo close.

 

“You fight like a _Graecus_ ,” Percy’s voice was clear, concise, and full of scorn. Maria was rising to call the fight when his cousin rammed his forehead into Octavian’s face. The legacy went limp, and when Percy let go, he fell to the ground, his chest heaving, but otherwise unmoving. Percy was already moving, snatching his helmet from the ground as he hopped over the wall separating his booth from the arena, vanishing into the tunnels. There was a moment of silence among the crowd before both the legionaries and the citizens who had come to watch the fight erupted into cheers, jeers, and other incoherent shoutings.

 

Jason had never seen the First looking so thoroughly humiliated, and for once, their section was silent. By comparison, the Fourth was on their feet shouting at the First, the Fifth right beside them. It had been many years since the First had suffered a loss this bad. A team of medics rushed onto the field, lifting Octavian onto a stretcher before rushing him out. Lupa slid behind Jason and leaned next to him.

 

“Perseus is going to need company,” Lupa told him, “Reyna is already going to find him. Perhaps she will if she looks long enough. I would suggest you go Neptune’s, uhm, shrine.”

 

“Of course, Lady Lupa,” Jason said, before pivoting on his heel to go and do exactly that. He saw Julia turn to call out to him but Lupa intercepted her and shook her head. He didn’t hear what words were exchanged, but he wasn’t going to stick around.

 

He made a bee-line for Temple Hill, and to his immense surprise, he caught up with Reyna who was heading in the exact same direction. Her head snapped to look behind her when she heard him approaching, but her expression softened, a snarl falling from her lips when she saw it was him. Neither said anything as they approached the shack.

 

“The First isn’t going to forget this, Percy,” Leila’s voice drifted through the open door. Jason blinked in surprise, but it made sense. She had been his second, and the moment he stormed off, Tony would’ve sent her after him, or she would’ve followed him of her own volition. “And Octavian’s going to be the Augur. Regardless of what the gods command, he’ll hold a grudge, and that could hurt our Cohort.”

 

Inside, Percy was sitting at the foot of the marble slab that held his father’s shrine, his back to it, and his eyes closed. Leila was kneeling in front of him, wrapping bandages around his hands.

 

“I don’t doubt it,” Percy replied, his voice cracking for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Hey Jason. Is that Reyna with you?”

 

Leila whipped around, jerking in surprise at seeing them there.

 

“How did you—?” Reyna began, but Percy cut her off.

 

“I smelt ozone. That only happens when Jason’s anxious. Plus, I heard two people come in, and only you two would be brave enough to follow me after what just happened.”

 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Reyna mumbled. Leila crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“He’s fine,” she said sharply, “I’m taking care of him.”

 

“Lupa asked me to come,” Jason said, stepping in between the two girls before whatever this was could escalate, “granted, I would have anyway, but you know, when Lupa gives an order…”

 

“It’s in your best interest to obey straight away,” Percy said with a small grin. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, almost as if he was scared what he would see if he did. “I’m fine, really. I just…”

 

He drifted off, struggling with the words.

 

“Leila, Reyna, would you give me a moment with Percy?” Jason asked, though his tone brooked no argument. Both girls still looked like they would, so he shot them a quick glare, and they backed out the temple, closing the door behind them. “Go on, you know I won’t judge.”

 

“I didn’t want to stop when I did,” Percy said after a moment, his eyes cracking open. “I wanted to keep hitting him until he couldn’t speak anymore. Until he couldn’t spit poison at anyone, at any god. I didn’t want him to leave the arena _alive_. Do you know what the worst part is? All everyone saw was how much I destroyed him, but none of them know how much I _held back_. I could’ve ended that fight with a single punch. A chokehold, anything really, but I didn’t. I wanted Octavian to feel fear, _real_ fear, and know what it’s like to lose so badly it’s all you’ll be remembered for. Even if he goes down in the history if the Legion as the best Augur we ever had, they’ll still know that he lost to a Son of Neptune so badly they had to carry him out on a stretcher.”

 

How Percy knew that, Jason didn’t know, but neither did it surprise him. Jason made his way over to Percy, sent a quick prayer to Neptune asking not to be smote, and slid down next to him.

 

“He kept asking for mercy, too,” Percy continued, staring at the opposite wall blankly. “I kept telling him to fight me. I called him a coward, I told him he wasn’t worthy of his godly blood. I told him that I’d had better fights with my pillow, and that Lupa would be ashamed of him. And still, he just kept begging for me to stop the fight, to forgive him for what he said. I didn’t want to. I still don’t. I broke his nose, his jaw. He lost a few teeth. His eyesight may be damaged, maybe not. I _destroyed_ him and it wasn’t enough for me. I guess that’s my dad in me. That destructive rage that can’t be stopped, only waited out. Or maybe it’s from growing up with Gabe. He really showed me what anger was.”

 

Jason didn’t know who Gabe was, but he was guessing it wasn’t a loving family member. Percy seemed to realise this.

 

“Oh. I never told you about Gabe,” his voice was monotone now. “He was my stepfather. My mother married him for protection, or so she used to say. The way Lupa explained it, Gabe’s mortal stench was so strong the monsters couldn’t find me. Fat lot of help that did when Gabe was a monster himself. Not in the literal sense that we deal with. He used to hit me. Not a lot at first, because he was still trying to convince my mother that he was a good man, but after a while, he just stopped caring. One day he got _really_ angry and grabbed his belt. Knocked me around really hard, whipped me with it. It’s where the scars on my body came from. My mom… she went ballistic when she found me later. Grabbed me and took off. I don’t remember much of it, to be honest, but we ended up at Montauk before she got in contact with my father somehow. He had me taken to Lupa and the rest is history.”

 

“Do you… do you talk to your mother?” Jason asked carefully.

 

“I have no idea what happened to her,” Percy answered honestly, “I really don’t. I’ve tried to find out, but there’s nothing about her. No phone number, no address. No gravestone either, so she might be alive.”

 

“Gods, Percy, I’m sorry,” Jason said, wrapping his arm around Percy’s shoulders. “I didn’t know.”

 

“I know,” Percy replied, “It’s… I’ve known you for a week Jason, but you’re family, and you’re _good_. You, Reyna, Leila—you’re better than what I deserve. I’ve been trained to be a killer. A soldier, officer, whatever I’m needed to be. I’m under no illusions as to what my role here will be, but you need to stay as you are, Jason. So long as _you’re_ seen as the good one and _I’m_ seen as the bad one, the legion will be happy.”

 

“But what about you?” Jason asked with a frown. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The fact that Percy thought all his future held was death and destruction made him feel sick. “Shouldn’t _you_ be happy?”

 

The smile Percy gave him had no emotion behind it. It was as dead as the effigy of Neptune.

 

“My happiness isn’t important. The legion is,” his cousin said, “and it needs to stay that way. If it’s okay, I’d like to be alone a while. This is… it’s the closest I can get to my father. It’s a rather personal thing.”

 

“Of course,” Jason wasn’t going to press Percy. Not right now. Not after that. “I’ll be outside whenever you’re finished.”

 

“Don’t bother waiting, I’ll be here a while,” Percy called over his shoulder as Jason left.

 

Leila and Reyna were still outside, a few feet apart, arms crossed and glaring at each other, but their focus shifted to him the moment he came outside. He just arched an eyebrow at the both of them, getting an eye-roll from Leila and a shrug from Reyna.

 

“He wants to be alone,” he told them, “you guys head back, I’ll stick around, make sure he’s okay and stop anything from happening.”

 

“He’s in my cohort, I’ll wait for him,” Leila insisted stubbornly.

 

“No, you won’t,” Jason said, taking a deep breath in, “Percy needs isolation and time to calm down. Even two people here is too many. Lupa asked me to watch over him, so that’s what I’ll do. You can tell that to Tony, the Praetors, and anyone else who asks, understood?”

 

“Understood,” Leila grit out, before pivoting on her heel and marching away. Reyna lingered a moment, but Jason shot her a look, and she reluctantly followed the daughter of Ceres. After a minute or two, Jason settled into his vigil. He would be here a while.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of his fight against Octavian, Percy has a chat with his Centurion. Later, Camp Jupiter receives some guests.

**_Percy_ **

“ _Crocea Mors_ , huh?” Tony said to him a few days after the fight. “Where’d you get that?”

 

They were in his office at the Fourth Cohort’s barracks, discussing a recent argument that happened between two legionaries, one from Percy’s old squad, one from his new one. Percy hadn’t been privy to the fight itself, but apparently, he had been the source of it. The issue was resolved now—the legionary from his new squad had said that Percy had ruined the Cohort’s future by beating Octavian so bad when they all knew he would be Augur one day. Percy’s old squad mate had stuck up for him, and it became physical.

 

“It was a gift from Lupa,” Percy answered, shifting on his feet slightly, “a reward for killing the Minotaur, when it stumbled across the pack.”

 

Tony whistled lowly, before holding his hand out. Percy didn’t hesitate, drawing the sword and handing it to his centurion grip first. He knew Tony wouldn’t try and take it from him. The tall, burly son of Mercury was too good for that—even with his father being a patron to thieves. He turned the gladius over, examining it closely. After a few test swings and jabs, he handed it back to Percy.

 

“Keep an eye on that,” he instructed him, “it’s a beautiful weapon, and more than one person will want to get their hands on it if they ever find out what it really is.”

 

“I will, sir,” Percy said as the sword transformed back into the large SPQR signet ring on his right hand. Percy much preferred this enchantment to the one that Jason had for his weapons. A coin toss determined whether or not he got a sword or a _pilum_? That was ridiculous, but it _was_ a gift from Juno, so who was he to judge. He was about to leave when Tony cleared his throat slightly.

 

“Not just yet, Percy,” he said, “we do need to talk about something.”

 

“Of course, sir,” Percy responded stiffly. He knew this talk was coming, he had just hoped it would wait a little longer.

 

“As far as I’m concerned, you gave Octavian everything he deserved,” Tony said straight away, “Michaela Haley agrees with me, but it ended in the arena. She’s made it clear to her cohort that it was a matter of honour between the two of you, and it’s been resolved. I’ve said the same thing to the rest of the Fourth. But between you and Octavian? It’s done. I know it isn’t that simple. I know the Fourth will suffer in the future because of this, but I need you to _put it aside_ for the sake of not only the cohort, but for the Legion and for Rome.”

 

“I understand sir,” Percy replied, “really I do. I was responding to an insult dealt to my father. The response was adequate in my mind.”

 

Lupa would have been ashamed of the bold-faced lie that he had just told, but he wasn’t going to admit to his superior officer that he had wanted to beat another legionary to death. That wouldn’t translate well at all, even if it was justified. Tony nodded silently, studying Percy for any sign of lying, and when he seemed content that there was none, he motioned to the door.

 

“Oh, and Percy?” Tony called out. Percy held in a groan and turned to face him, “the Praetor’s have passed down word that Lady Diana and her Hunters are coming to New Rome in a few months. I’ve been ordered to instruct all male legionaries to avoid them at all costs. I’ve also been ordered to stress the fact to you in particular that they won’t take kindly to any challenges, even if your father is insulted. Lady Diana won’t let it stand.”

 

“I understand sir,” Percy replied, “I’ll strive my best not to provoke any of them.”

 

Tony grinned, and Percy exited the office. Leila was pacing outside and practically pounced him when she saw him.

 

“What happened?” She demanded, “no one will tell me anything! Kyle’s in the infirmary and Justin’s been under guard for hours now.”

 

Kyle was their squad-mate, and Justin was his old one. Both were children of Mars, and the altercation had been violent.

 

Percy sighed. Leila was intensely loyal to the Fourth, and the news would sting, especially since she was also intensely protective of _him_ for some reason.

 

“Kyle said that I had destroyed the cohort’s future by beating Octavian so badly,” he told her quietly, “Justin took offense to that. It escalated from there, but I don’t know who threw the first punch. No one does, actually, but Justin made it out in one piece—Kyle didn’t. He’s going to be on guard duty for the next six months as a result. That’s all I know.”

 

“Why would Kyle—why would he say that?” Leila questioned, “the gods ordered the fight! The matter’s been settled…”

 

“No, it hasn’t,” Percy told her gently, “Octavian will hold this against me—against the Fourth—for a long time. Perhaps forever, who knows. It doesn’t help that the fight was public, viewed by both legionaries and citizens.”

 

Leila frowned, but it cleared away after a moment, before her eyes gleamed with excitement.

 

“Did you hear Diana and her Hunters are coming?” She asked as they walked out of the barracks. Percy nodded in response, “do you think they’d let me train with them?”

 

“You’d have to get the Praetor’s permission, but they’d be crazy not to,” Percy told her with a laugh, “you’d be far too dangerous afterwards though. Not sure how I feel about that.”

 

Why?” Leila challenged with a grin, “worried that a mere daughter of Ceres may usurp the powerful Son of Neptune as the pride of the Fourth?”

 

“Mere daughter of Ceres?” Percy scoffed, “there’s nothing mere about you, Leila, and I pity the person who thinks so.”

 

She turned away from him, so he couldn’t see her face, but she let out a mumbled ‘thanks.’

 

“There’s still some time before they come,” Percy reminded her, “so why don’t we work extra hard so that you can keep up with them?”

 

Leila turned back to him, but Percy had already taken off in a sprint. She let out a startled cry before taking off after him. Neither of them noticed the young girl tending to a fire nearby with a slight smile on her face, nor the older, regaler looking woman wearing a circlet of polished crab claws standing nearby.

 

“Did I not tell you, Salacia?” Vesta said, “the boy is kind.”

 

“Tell that to the legacy of Apollo,” the Queen of the Seas responded, but the eldest of Saturn let out a slight chuckle.

 

“Are you not satisfied with how he handled the insult, my dear sister?”

 

Salacia didn’t respond, instead letting out a slight huff.

 

“He is… decent,” she conceded, “for the mortal by-blow of my husband. I will watch him closely.”

 

“Not too closely, lest you draw my brother’s wrath,” Vesta reminded her, “but I am intrigued to see how the Hunt handles him.”

 

“How do you mean?” Salacia asked with a frown.

 

“I’ve watched him since he was a young boy with Lupa,” Vesta said, “and the boy is nothing if not willing to learn. The Hunt will provide him with that opportunity.”

 

“But they hate males!” Salacia protested, earning a chuckle from Vesta.

 

“So they do,” she said quietly, poking at the hearth once more, “so they do.”

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Three months later,_

“You want to what now?” Jason asked with a panicked expression, nearly dropping his sword. Percy pulled his strike back to stop himself from skewering his cousin.

 

“I want to ask one of the Hunters of Diana to spar me,” he repeated, “preferably the lieutenant.”

 

“Are you insane?” Jason hissed, stepping back and ending the duel. “And didn’t the Praetor’s tell you not to provoke them?”

 

“They did,” Percy confirmed, “and I don’t plan on provoking them. I’m going to ask for a match, and if they say no, I’ll back off. No provoking, only civil conversation.”

 

“Except they hate males,” Jason pointed out, “they may just shoot you on sight.”

 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he shrugged in response, “and speaking of the lieutenant, here she is now.”

 

“Percy wait—” Jason reached out, but Percy nimbly danced away from his grasping hands and instead made a bee-line directly for the Huntress. The Lady Diana had introduced her as ‘Lieutenant Nightshade’ but Percy had heard Julia call her ‘Zoe.’ She was surrounded by three other Huntresses, a tall, lithe redhead who looked to be around fifteen, a shorter, stockier blonde around the same age, and a girl around Percy’s age with deep auburn hair and startling silver eyes.

 

“Excuse me, Miss Nightshade?” Percy called out when he was a few paces from her. She stopped dead in her tracks and threw a glare his way. Percy supposed it was meant to be intimidating, but it had no effect on him.

 

“What do you want, _boy_?” She sneered at him. Oh, she was good, there was no doubt about that, but Percy had spent six years surrounded by magical wolves and the mother of Rome. She had _nothing_ on them.

 

“I was wondering if you would spar with me?” Percy asked, and the four girls blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry if I offended you, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

 

“You have other legionaries,” the redhead snapped, “fight them.”

 

“If they were a challenge I would,” Percy replied, “but I’d rather fight someone who will make me better.”

 

“What’s your name, boy?” The girl his age asked, though there was less venom, and more curiosity behind it, “what cohort are you in?”

 

“Perseus Jackson, Son of Neptune, Fourth Cohort,” Percy rattled off instinctively, noticing the way the Huntresses shot each other surprised glances, “er, ma’am? Miss? I’m sorry, I don’t know what to call you.”

 

“My name is Diane,” the girl said, cutting off the blonde before she could speak.

 

“Must get confusing sometimes with Lady Diana, huh?” Percy said, but it was more because she was the only one not outrightly hostile with him, unlike the other three. It didn’t fail to escape him that there was a slight exchange of looks between Diane and Lieutenant Nightshade.

 

“What makes you think you can beat me in a fight, boy?” Nightshade asked him, stepping in between Percy and Diane. Gods, they were protective. They clearly also thought he was a complete and utter moron.

 

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted honestly, “but I reckon you’ll know within twenty seconds which one of us will win the fight and I doubt it’ll be me. This isn’t an ego match, Miss Nightshade. I need to improve, and in order to do that, I need to _lose_ , so that I know where my strengths and weaknesses are.”

 

Nightshade stared at him for a moment.

 

“You’re rather mature for your age,” she finally settled on.

 

“Thanks, it’s the trauma,” he responded, “is that a yes to the match?”

 

“It is,” she confirmed, “meet me back here in an hour. I must clear this with Lady Diana first.”

 

“Didn’t you already?” Percy asked, a slight grin crossing his face, “that is what that exchange between you and Diane—forgive me, Lady Diana, was, was it not?”

 

“Clever boy,” Diana stated, “you knew right away, didn’t you?”

 

“Respectfully, my lady, but I’ve never seen anyone with eyes like those, and even as a young girl, there’s a certain… etherealness and beauty that comes with divine beings. It’s the same with Lupa, whether she is in wolf form or human form.” Percy replied with a casual shrug, “but if Miss Nightshade still needs an hour, then she has it.”

 

“Twenty minutes,” Lady Diana said, “I wish for Lupa to observe this fight. We will see how effective her training was.”

 

“By your command, Lady Diana,” Percy said with a slight bow. He had barely taken a step when he was yanked back hard, spun around, and found himself face to face with Tony.

 

“Percy, I gave you _one_ job,” the Texan sighed, “don’t provoke the hunters! One simple, easy job.”

 

“I didn’t provoke them,” he argued, “I asked politely. The conversation was civil!”

 

“He’s not lying,” Julia said, emerging from the crowd. How long she had been there, Percy didn’t know, but he was beginning to think it had been a while. “There was no provocation, no challenges. Just a request. One reasonable enough that the Lady Diana saw fit to approve of the match. It’s happening, Tony. I do need a word with Percy first though.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Tony replied, nudging Percy along. He shot Julia his most charming smile, but she kept her face blank as she led him away from the others. He was about to get the scolding of a lifetime, he knew, but it would be worth it. He hadn’t lied, the opposition was getting too easy, and Percy couldn’t spend every moment training with Jason. He needed new challenges, and if that meant interpreting orders a specific way, then he was willing.

 

Now he just needed to make sure he didn’t lose the fight _too_ badly. That would reflect poorly on the Legion, even if his opponent assumedly had centuries upon centuries of experience over him. It would be an interesting match, that much was certain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What better way for Percy to improve but to fight a huntress with millennia of experience?


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy and Zoe spar, and later, Percy has to deal with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'd really appreciate it if y'all left some comments, let me know what you think!

**_Zoe_ **

She didn’t want to fight the boy. Truly, she didn’t, but he had challenged her, and Lady Diana had commanded it. Artemis would have killed him for deigning to speak to her, but there was something about this son of Neptune that made Diana pause. Something that intrigued her, and that in itself was very rare. There wasn’t much of a difference between Artemis and Diana in all honesty, but the Roman aspect was far more forgiving of males than her Greek one, and Zoe had seen the aftermath of some of the decisions Diana made while dealing with males and the same with Artemis. It wasn’t always pretty.

 

The son of Neptune was waiting for her at one of the smaller sparring rings, arms hanging loosely at his sides as he rotated his wrists around, before moving up to his elbows, and then the shoulders. He didn’t have a weapon on him at first, but after studying her for a moment he tapped the ring he wore on his right hand, which quickly expanded into—

 

Gods, it couldn’t be. That was _Crocea Mors_ , the sword of Julius Caesar himself. She wasn’t the only one to recognise it, judging from the way that Diana’s eyes narrowed at the sight. Still, this wasn’t the time to get distracted. She drew her own knives from their sheaths, giving each one an experimental spin. The leather binding had been replaced more times than she could count, but these blades had been with her since she joined the hunt almost four thousand years prior. Some talked of weapons being an extension of the body, but to Zoe, it was more than that. These weren’t an extension, they were part of her. She was just as comfortable with them in her hands as she was with nothing in them. They weighed nothing, moved faster than the boy would be able to handle.

 

“No armour?” He asked her. She shrugged in response. “Let’s even the playing field then.”

 

He tossed his helmet aside before fiddling with the clasps on his chest plate, which was placed aside with more reverence than the helm had been. He kept the vambraces on for some reason, before settling into the standard legionary fighting stance. Zoe narrowed her eyes. If he planned on fighting her like that, it wouldn’t be a long fight.

 

“Zoe,” Maria grabbed her arm gently before she could begin, “I know he asked for this, but I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t kill him. He’s a good soldier.”

 

“‘Twas not my intention to do so,” she answered, “but nor will I leave him unharmed.”

 

Maria just nodded and stepped back. The Praetor shot a final glance at the boy, who was focused on Zoe, studying her closely. Perhaps he wasn’t as foolish as she believed.

 

“The fight begins whenever either of you wish,” Lady Diana declared, “do not keep me waiting long.”

 

The boy moved first, a slow shift to her left. She mimicked the movement, but to the right instead. Another step, another counter. Lady Diana cleared her throat loudly, and this time, the boy took two quick steps forward. He was still outside of knife range, and she was _just_ outside the range of his sword. Deciding that ending the fight quickly would probably be the best decision, Zoe darted forward, reversing her grip on her left dagger and slashing. The boy barely moved, but it was just enough that the strike missed. Zoe didn’t think on the failure, and instead brought the knife back, but it was intercepted by a vambrace, knocking it off course as he brought _Crocea Mors_ around. She twisted to avoid the blade, ducking under it and coming back up, dropping her right dagger as she reached across and grabbed the boy’s wrist, stopping him from bringing the sword back across. He stepped forward, slipping a leg behind her own and jerked it back, sending her tumbling backwards. Unfortunately for him, she still had an iron-tight grip, and he toppled after her.

 

Zoe bucked her hip and sent him flying over her, hitting the ground on his back with a loud thud. She rolled atop him, snatching her dagger up from the ground before giving him a slight gash on his lip and finally resting the tip of her blade on his Adam’s Apple.

 

“Yield,” she hissed at the boy. He wouldn’t. She could see it in his eyes, he was scanning, searching for a weakness. She wouldn’t give it to him. “Yield!”

 

When he made no effort to do so, she let out a quick sigh before bringing the pommel of her dagger across his temple. He stopped struggling immediately, going limp as his eyes rolled back. There was barely a moments’ pause before the Hunters started jeering at the legionaries, calling them out for fielding such inferior warriors. It was insulting, but not in they way they wanted it to be. The fight had lasted perhaps three minutes, but that was still two and half longer than she had expected. This Son of Neptune was far better than she had expected. Given the opportunity, she had no doubt he could become a warrior to surpass Achilles.

 

Still, she quickly left the arena, watching in interest as three legionaries, two girls and boy, rushed to help Jackson to a medic. He was still unconscious, so the boy was doing most of the heavy lifting, but the two girls seemed to be fussing over him and glaring at each other while doing so. This time, her sigh was deeper. Another boy with power over women, and he wasn’t even conscious.

 

“That fight was interesting,” Lady Diana noted, appearing seemingly from nowhere. “He’s far better than you expected him to be, correct?”

 

“Yes, milady,” Zoe tipped her head slightly, “but he would make a poor Hunter.”

 

Diana snorted quietly and a small smile graced her features.

 

“Were he a female I believe he would make the ideal Hunter, actually,” she said, “but my uncle very rarely has daughters. I’m not sure whether it would be better or not if he did.”

 

“And what of his son, my lady?”

 

“A warrior to be certain,” Diana replied, “Lupa believes he has the mind of a statesman, a general. She told me in another era he could’ve been a new Augustus.”

 

“And your impression?” Zoe asked with a furrowed brow.

 

“I don’t think it would need to be a different era for him to do so.”

 

_**Percy** _

 

 

When Percy’s eyes fluttered open, an hour had passed. He didn’t know that at first, of course, because the sudden invasion of light made him groan. That in turn led to a flurry of sound and blurred movement above him that culminated with an unintentional spark of electricity flowing through Jason to Percy. That woke him up real quick, and he bolted upright.

 

“Jupiter’s Throne, I’m sorry!” Jason exclaimed, “I didn’t mean to do that!”

 

“Which is precisely why you are leaving my patient’s room, Legionary Grace,” an unassuming voice called out. Percy had only met the _prima medicus_ , the primary doctor, once before when Tony was introducing him to the command staff. Dustin Cole was a small man, a son of Apollo, of course, and while his talent with a bow was well known it was his skills as a doctor and surgeon where he was truly famous. He had been the _Prima Medicus_ of the legion for two decades, and had been in the legion since the Varus Expedition.

 

“Yes sir,” Jason mumbled as Dustin waved towards the door.

 

“Now that he’s gone, let’s get down to business,” Dustin said, “you got lucky. No concussion, though I will be recommending at least two days of rest before we let you get back to training. It seems the Huntress hit you just hard enough to knock you out, but little else. No fractures, or even bruising. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there might have been some divine intervention in healing you.”

 

“And since you _do_ know better?” Percy asked, rolling his neck and stretching his arms out.

 

“I think Lupa doesn’t want you away from the legion for too long,” he shrugged, “she spent quite a bit time in here and I wasn’t allowed in, so I’m assuming she was the one to heal you. That’s good. Means I don’t have to waste time or supplies on you.”

 

“You’re all charm today doc,” Percy huffed in amusement before swinging his feet off the bed and onto the floor. There was a moment of spinning when he stood, but his vision quickly stabilised. “Am I good to leave?”

 

“Sign this,” Dustin replied, shoving a clipboard in his face, and after Percy scrawled his signature the doctor nodded to himself, “all good. Try not to get knocked out in the next two days, and if you get sudden flashes of pain in your head or find yourself constantly lightheaded, come right back here.”

 

“Aye aye, skipper,” Percy grinned, “how bad was it?”

 

“Three fights between legionaries and Hunters,” Dustin sighed, “Leila was one of them, I figured you’d want to know. She’s in the Fourth’s medical bay. Nothing serious, but she didn’t like all the jeering coming from Diana’s maidens. I think Reyna tried to stop her, but got punched in the face? I’m not entirely sure what happened to be honest. You better get your girls in check, boy.”

 

“They’re not my girls!” Percy exclaimed, feeling the blood rush to his face, “I’ll go, uh, see what happened, I guess?”

 

“Oh, the innocence of youth,” Dustin laughed, “get out of here kid.”

 

Percy did exactly that, weaving his way through the halls until he reached the exit, where, unsurprisingly, Jason was waiting for him, his _denarius_ weaving through his fingers as he played with it.

 

“What happened with Leila and Reyna?” He demanded as he approached, and Jason let out a groan.

 

“I thought I’d have more time to ease you into it,” he grumbled, “Leila overheard some Hunters talking about how you were a pushover. A disgrace to the legion and all that, and it made her _livid_. I don’t think I’d ever seen her so angry. Reyna stepped in between them to stop a fight before it could begin, but Leila just decked her in the face and then swung at the Huntress. Got a few hits in before the hunters hit back. I think they were so surprised that a _girl_ attacked them they didn’t know what to do at first. The lieutenant, Nightshade, broke it up just as Tony arrived to get Leila out of there. It isn’t too bad, a split lip and a black eye, but Tony’s confining her to the med bay until further notice.”

 

“Gods damn it,” Percy cursed under his breath, “it was a sparring match, and I lost, fair and square. We don’t need this kind of crap right now.”

 

“I know, pal,” Jason told him, “look, I gotta get back to the Fifth. Abigail has an announcement for us, and we’re all required to be there.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Percy waved his cousin off, “I’ll see you later?”

 

“Probably, yeah,” Jason called over his shoulder.

 

Several people greeted Percy as he arrived to the Fourth’s _castrum_ , but he strode past them all, and it didn’t take anyone long to figure out where he was going.  The legion technically had five small forts where the cohorts were kept, but they were so close together that it was pretty much one massive fort, with the _praetorium_ in the middle, which also made it the most defensible place in all of New Rome. Each castrum was designed the exact same, no matter where, so it didn’t take Percy much time to find the med bay. Two medics scurried out of his way as he entered, and another quickly pointed to the room where Leila would be found. It seemed that his face wasn’t inviting any protests today.

 

He closed the door behind him and stood silently, his friend clearly uncomfortable under his gaze.

 

“Want to explain what you did?” He asked.

 

“Not really,” Leila replied defiantly.

 

“I don’t care about the Hunters,” Percy told her, “I knew it was going to happen, but I hoped you’d be smarter than this. What bothers me is that you swung at another legionary to get there.”

 

“You don’t get it, Percy,” Leila scoffed, “she was in the way. What right did she have to stop me?”

 

“Pretty much every right,” he shot back, “my match with Nightshade was a sparring match. I lost, Leila, and the Hunters are going to crow over that for a while. Reyna knew it too, and she knew it would be stupid to pick a fight with them over it. What do you think would have happened if Lady Diana was there? Do you think she would’ve tolerated an attack on her Hunters, especially an unprovoked one? Did you know that the other two guys who attacked Hunters have broken bones, concussions and worse?”

 

Percy didn’t know if that was true or not, but it wouldn’t surprise him if that was the case. The point here was to make Leila think.

 

“On top of it all, you’ve made the Legion look divided. You’ve made the cohort seem weak. You’re the _only_ one from the Fourth who acted out. What does that say about us? We can’t even keep our own in control. So yeah, Reyna had every right to try and stop you making a stupid mistake, and if I had been there, I would’ve done the same thing! Would you have hit me, Leila, just so you could feel a little better?”

 

He didn’t wait for a response, instead tearing the door open and storming out. Tony was making his way towards the med bay when he intercepted Percy, grabbing him by the arm.

 

“Where do you think you’re going, buddy?” He asked, not reacting in the slightest to the growl that Percy instinctively released.

 

“I’m going to go sit at the bottom of the Little Tiber,” he said, “I need to expend some energy, and that’s the best place to do it.”

 

Tony studied him for a moment before glancing over to the med bay.

 

“All right,” he drawled, “but be here for evening muster. I’ve got news for the cohort.”

 

A warning bell went off in the back of Percy’s mind, but he ignored it, instead continuing onto the only jetty that went into the Tiber and leapt forward, quickly sinking to the bottom. He let out a scream he had been holding in since his fight against Octavian all those months ago, and the water shook in response. Any nearby fish darted away, leaving the area around Percy devoid of life.

 

“My, you really are your father’s son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get some insight into what Zoe and Diana(Artemis) think about Percy, and we get a bit of a look into the way that Percy deals with frustration.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy meets his stepmother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please please please leave comments! Let me know what you think! What you like and what you don't like!

**_Percy_ **

“My, you really are your father’s son.”

 

Percy spun around and found himself face to face with easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She was tall, lithe, and her skin had a light green tinge to it. She wore armour made of chiton, and a tiara studded with pearls. He knew who she was by description, and if she was angry right now, things wouldn’t go well for him.

 

“Queen Salacia,” he greeted his step-mother with a bow, just as Lupa had taught him, “my apologies if I disturbed you.”

 

“You didn’t disturb me silly boy I followed you here,” Salacia laughed, “you seem rather tense. Perhaps you actually _are_ bothered by losing the match?”

 

“Not at all, my lady,” he responded carefully, “I expected to lose. Miss Nightshade is far older and far more experienced than I am. I never had a chance of winning that fight, only weathering it. I knew there would be some form of backlash from the legion. Just not from my friends.”

 

“The daughter of Ceres?” Salacia asked, “yes, she was rather angered by the insults being sent your way. It’s very rare that something other than gardening being ruined can draw their ire like that. It was… what do the mortals say now… cute? Yes! It was rather ‘cute.’ She seems very fond of you. As does the daughter of Bellona.”

 

Oh gods. Was his stepmother going to have a conversation about _girls_ with him? Percy hoped that wasn’t the case. He’d much rather just die now.

 

“Oh, don’t fret, that’s not why I’m here,” the Queen of the Seas _giggled_ before sobering up, “your father has been watching you closely, and he’s beginning to get concerned. Even Triton, who claims to dislike you solely on principle, admitted he thought you may be heading down a dark path if not properly guided. _That_ is why I am here.”

 

“To guide me down the proper path?” Percy frowned.

 

“Only you may choose what path you take, Perseus,” Salacia said, “I am here to help you decide what path that is. Lupa wanted to do it, but she has obligations to New Rome, and I am intrigued to see the man you become. I have decided to take over your training. The legion will, of course, teach you how to fight, but I will be the one to teach you how to lead armies, and how to lead nations. No Son of Neptune will ever be a simple _foot_ soldier, no matter what Jupiter and Juno may desire.”

 

“Does the legion know about this?” Percy asked.

 

“They will soon enough,” Salacia replied, “if they object… well, it would be wise for them _not_ to. Unless _you_ have any objections, young man?”

 

“Uh, not really?” Percy shrugged, “isn’t there laws in place against this, though?”

 

“Those laws only stop your father from interacting with you,” Salacia told him, “and even then, so long as these lessons occur in the water, what can Jupiter do to stop me?”

 

Even twenty feet underwater, the crack of thunder above them was so loud that it reverberated through the water like an explosion. Salacia merely tipped her head upwards in response.

 

“Good, it is decided,” Salacia clapped her hands together, “everyday after noon you will join me for lessons. We will go over whatever I deem necessary, even if you believe you already know it. I understand you have trained with mermen and water spirits before?”

 

“Yes, my lady,” Percy said, “for many years.”

 

“Be prepared to do so again. I will try to find you more experienced opponents, however. The run of the mill soldier won’t be enough for you, I believe,” she noted, “Perhaps you will even get the opportunity to spar against Triton, if I can convince my stubborn son to it. I’m getting off topic, I’m afraid.  Let’s start with something important. The anger you feel right now.”

 

“My lady?” Percy squeaked, caught off guard. The fact his voice cracked so high made him feel like dying.

 

“Oh, don’t be shy now, I can feel the energy radiating off you like an erupting volcano,” Salacia said to him, “you need to expend it before it damages your body or your soul. Explain it to me. It’s not just the Ceres girl. Perhaps some unresolved anger at the legacy of Apollo?”

 

Percy didn’t reply, but Salacia seemed to read his mind, and merely hummed in appreciation of her own observation.

 

“Have you ever caused an Earthquake, Perseus?” she asked him.

 

“Uh, no, my lady,” he replied uneasily. Surely even she knew to try that here would be a bad idea?

 

“Good, and I do not think this time and place is where you should create one,” she said, “focus upwards. The air above us is filled with water. Breathe deeply, slowly. Can you feel it?”

 

He could. It was everywhere, and there was so _much_ of it.

 

“You want to bring it closer. Think of clouds. You want it brought together, twenty paces in any direction. Let it form slowly.” Salacia instructed. He was looking up as he did so, and he could see a single large dark cloud forming above the river. “Let the power flow through you into the cloud. It is no longer just water. Now it has energy.”

 

He felt all this electricity coursing through his body dampen, and above him, above the Little Tiber, the sky rumbled. After a moment, a burst of lighting emerged, cracking into the water, but quickly dissipating. Salacia must’ve willed it so.

 

“Good. Now, pull _down_.” She said, and when he did so, the sky opened in a torrential downpour, though it was only limited to the single cloud he had formed. Everywhere else, the sky was crystal clear, not common, but not rare either. He could feel the water droplets merging with the waters of the Little Tiber, the energy he had expended returning to him, but different… subdued. No, _peaceful_. “Sometimes, it’s necessary to simply expend. Holding everything in is never beneficial, Perseus. The water will always be a safe haven for you, never forget that. It will never abandon you, never fail you. Seek it out when you need comfort.”

 

“I—thank you, my lady,” Percy said, “really. This… this did more for me than you can imagine.”

 

Salacia blinked at him for a moment before a small smile graced her lips.

 

“I’m not usually fond of my husband’s bastards,” she admitted, “but you… there’s something about you, Perseus. You have an… aura, I suppose, of greatness. It is the same your father has, but it also reminds me of Vesta. I am interested to see where you go. Now, I believe you have a meeting to get to, do you not?”

 

Percy blinked and checked his watch. What had felt like only a few minutes had in reality been nearly two hours. He had been so absorbed in everything going on around him that he had barely noticed the passing of time. All that energy first leaving and then re-entering his body had been euphoric. He let out a mumbled curse, thanked Salacia once more, and scrambled out of the river, making a bee line directly for the Fourth’s castrum. He made it just in time to slip into the muster lines. Several people shot him glances, but he ignored them all, even Leila who was directly to his left, instead staring straight ahead.

 

Tony strolled out in front of them, horribly casual as he always was and leaned onto the podium that had been brought out.

 

“I’m not going to waste anyone’s time,” he began, “in about four months, Abigail Jones of the Fifth Cohort will be retiring from service in the legion. Taking her place will be Jason Grace, Son of Jupiter. Now, I know many of you, at best, are uninterested in the Fifth Cohort. Some of you have close ties with them, and other despise them. Legionary Grace may be young, but he is experienced and has the mind of a soldier, a general. Regardless of his age, he _will_ be an officer, and he is to be treated as such. Any questions?”

 

No one fielded any for him, and Tony nodded to himself.

 

“Good, you’re all dismissed. Dinner is in an hour, and then final muster for weekend passes. Go do whatever it is you reprobates do in your free time.”

 

The cohort dispersed, many heading back to the barracks to continue games of chess, poker, or checkers. Others went to the bathhouses or the gyms. Percy went to his father’s shrine instead. He had done his best to clean it up, brushing the cobwebs away and replacing the rotting fruit in the bowl with fresher ones. The whole place needed a new paintjob, but he didn’t have the time to do that. Instead, he did what he had been doing for several months now and kneeled in front of the altar.

 

“Uh, hey dad,” he greeted, “I met your wife today, but I’m sure you know that. Lady Salacia is… well, she’s actually pretty cool. I don’t know much about what she wants to do with me, but I think it’ll be really useful for the legion.”

 

He took a deep breath, looking around.

 

“I know this isn’t… it’s not right, they way they represent you here,” he continued, “they fear you, and by extension, me, because of the powers you wield. That doesn’t bother me, a little bit of healthy fear never hurt anyone, but this disrespect? This _temple_ ,” he sneered the word, “it’s insulting. I can’t make them like you more, they have to come to that decision on their own. I just… I wish it was easier, you know? I can only show them that you’re not to be feared to the extent you are, but the damage has been done. Shen Lun, all those years ago… well you know what happened.”

 

Percy sat in silence for a few minutes, absolutely _nothing_ going on around him, and he felt at peace. There were no distractions. No problems, just him.

 

“I think I might’ve been too hard on Leila,” he pressed on. He wasn’t sure if his father was listening, but it felt good to talk to him. He could say things that he wouldn’t even tell Jason, which lifted a burden from his chest. “But at the same time… she knew it wasn’t personal. Styx, I told her that I expected to lose! I guess I’m more bothered by the fact that she hit Reyna, if we’re being honest. I don’t like my friends fighting.”

 

There was no response, of course, but the room seemed to warm up just a little, which may have been an indicator that Neptune was listening. Or it just meant that it was warming up, and Percy was overthinking everything.

 

“Jason made Centurion, but I think you’d already know. I’m glad. I know he’s young, but he deserves it. I bet he’ll even be Praetor before he’s eighteen,” he realised he was talking about a Son of Jupiter in his father’s shrine, but he hoped he wouldn’t mind, “I know that he’s supposed to be my rival or something like that but it’s hard not to like the guy. He’s nice. I’d go as far as saying he’s _pure_. He’s got the potential to be a well loved leader, but I don’t think he has the necessary iron in him to be a great one. Not yet, at least. Lupa drilled it into me that I needed to be firm and rigid when needed, but also flexible and adaptable. Synonyms and antonyms of each other, but it delivered the message.”

 

“I’m in the Fourth Cohort, so I’ll never be Primus Pilus, but I can become influential in my own right,” Percy checked his watch before sighing, “I’ve got to go. I hope I don’t bore you with these talks, but it feels good to let you know what’s going on. Until next time, Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for those of you who don't know, Salacia is the Roman form of Amphitrite, Poseidon's (Neptune's) wife. To kind of establish where we'd be in canon, this chapter starts about a week before the events of the Titan's Curse, but the next chapter will start up at the beginning of the summer when the Battle of the Labyrinth occurs. And just a quick note, the Greeks, while they don't appear in this story, are around, and will be important in the sequel. Also, in this story, the Great Prophecy ONLY applies to the Greeks, not the Romans, though they do know about it. Alright, that's all I got for you'se


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave a comment, let me know what you think!

**_Leila_ **

Percy had stayed mad at her for a few weeks, and it had been awful. He wasn’t rude or anything, but he was cold and distant, something she hadn’t been used to. He talked to her like he was talking to an officer, always completely professional, and not at all personal. He also vanished for hours at a time in the afternoons, and the one time she had followed him to see where he was going, he just walked into the Little Tiber. None of the officers seemed concerned with this, so she had wondered if he had cleared it with them at first.

 

After a few weeks of the same behaviour, Leila had begun making small steps towards repairing their relationship, and she noticed Percy was doing the same thing. He wouldn’t leave conversations when she arrived, and after a few days started sitting next to her when they ate again. On the one hand, she was really angry, because who was he to treat her this way only to think things would go right back? On the other hand, however, she knew that what she had done had _really_ upset him. So, for about an extra two weeks, they had an awkward friendship going before it finally settled back into what it had been before, though she did notice that he was spending a lot of time with Tony, talking about gods-know-what.

 

On the other end of the spectrum, Jason had made Centurion two months prior, finally taking control of the Fifth, and the change she had seen in them was amazing. The Fifth had a new energy to them that was catching the rest of the legion by surprise. Tony had formed an alliance with them and was serving as a sort of mentor for Jason as well as Percy, and the two cohorts formerly considered among the lesser talented had won eight wargames in a row. The First and Second were livid, but the Third seemed interested in seeing if creating such a change among themselves was possible.

 

She watched as Percy detached from the Cohort once more, making his way to the Tiber as he always did and wondering what he could possibly be doing. He was clearly working on his powers, because every so often a storm would form above the river, or bursts of water would erupt upwards, or the water level would rise a foot or so. It caused some worry among the legion, but the Praetors had told them that everything was under control, and that nothing bad would happen. So far, nothing had, but that didn’t stop the whispers. The talking wasn’t as prevalent in the Fourth, and she knew Jason had shut down some discussions in the Fifth, but as to the other cohorts, Leila didn’t know what was going on.

 

Well, Octavian was talking out his ass as usual, but Leila didn’t think he had any major followers to his rhetoric. It didn’t take long before the clouds began forming over Percy’s spot in the Little Tiber, but this time, nothing happened. The cloud just sat there, dark and angry but not yielding any rain, thunder, or lightning. The latter two had confused her at first, so she had sought out Lupa during one of the rare days that she came to camp.

 

“How is Percy able to create storms?” She asked the Wolf Goddess when she granted her audience, “isn’t that Jupiter’s domain?”

 

“Partially,” Lupa conceded, “but Neptune is not called the Storm-bringer for his personality alone. His control of storms is equal to that of Jupiter, though his are not as… accurate would be the best term. He chooses where to send them, but he has no control over what is targeted. Jupiter does.”

 

“But Percy’s able to choose where the storm forms, so by definition isn’t he choosing where it targets?” Leila had argued. Lupa’s maw had split almost like a grin, a disturbing image.

 

“Perhaps,” she said, “I would advise not questioning this further. The gods do not appreciate mortals pondering their powers. Men have been killed for less.”

 

With that warning Lupa had departed, returning to the Wolf House to do what she did best—train demigods. The conversation rang through Leila’s head _all_ the time whenever Percy ran off to do whatever it was that he was doing. After a while, the clouds dissipated without making so much as a sound, seemingly melting back into the regular sky, and that was where Jason found her. He was jogging, which wasn’t unusual, but he usually didn’t take a route that put him near the river. The newly minted Centurion had mentioned water making him uneasy at times, but not always. Percy was the same with heights, though he had never explicitly told her as such.

 

“Hey there,” he greeted her, coming to a stop next to her, eyes instantly going to the river, “does he know you’re here?”

 

“I don’t know maybe?” She shrugged in response, “I normally come down here but have to go back before he comes out. I guess the fish could tell him…”

 

Jason let out an undignified snort which caused her to smile.

 

“Why are you here? You never come this way,” she said, and Jason nodded.

 

“You’re right, I normally don’t, but I decided to change the route up a little, take a more scenic tour of the cove,” Jason admitted, “Percy’s told me the river has the prettiest spots, and he’s been right so far. Plus, it gives me something other than the straight roads that go around the _castra_.”

 

“But I thought water was…” Leila drifted off, but Jason got the message, responding with a shrug.

 

“I keep a respectable distance,” he said, “which makes it more bearable, but I think Percy’s been creating little geysers just to keep me on my toes. It also helps that the Little Tiber seems more accepting of me than the ocean has been in the past, so we’ll see how it turns out. Enough about that, how are you doing? The Fourth’s been working harder than usual, I noticed.”

 

“Free for all is coming up,” Leila reminded him, “and Tony wants us to prove that we can stand on our own. Everyone seems to think that Percy’s the only capable legionary among us.”

 

“I get that,” Jason sighed, “people have been talking about how I’m the ‘only Roman’ in the Fifth. It’s an insult to my cohort that I won’t let stand any longer.”

 

“Good,” she declared, “you know I can’t root for you but… if it comes down to it, I’d rather you win than some chump from the First.”

 

“You mean Octavian, don’t you?”

 

“Of course I mean Octavian!” She laughed, “did you hear he’s been trying to make some goodwill with Michaela?”

 

“To do what? Succeed her as Centurion?” Jason blinked, “is that allowed? A serving officer and Augur?”

 

“Michael told Percy that it’s not _forbidden_ , but that it also hasn’t happened in gods know how long. Since before the Empire collapsed, that’s for certain,” Leila told him. Percy’s friendship with Michael Kahale was an odd one. As a member of the First, Michael was supposed to believe he was better than everyone else, but she had seen him time and again defer to Percy when he didn’t know what was going on. They sparred regularly, and the improvement the Son of Venus was showing was immense, so much so that Leila had seen the _Primus Pilus_ , Centurion Michaela, watching him closely, as if evaluating him as a potential successor.

 

The Centuriate were getting close to the end of their service, and many of them would retire once their time was up, nominating successors from their own cohort. Once, generations ago, the most senior remaining officer would be promoted up a cohort until they reached the position of _Primus Pilus_ , the ‘First File’ Centurion, essentially the field commander of the legion, subordinate only to the Praetors, but that time was long past. Each officer rose from the ranks of the cohort they served in, almost like it was hereditary.

 

“Michael’s got a good eye,” Jason noted, “if he’s seeing it then others will too. Only time can tell what will happen in the First, and even then—”

 

Before he could finish, there was a loud bang, and a massive geyser erupted in the middle of the Little Tiber, with a blur flying out of it higher. Leila’s eyes went up, and it took her a moment to register that the debris falling from the sky was actually Percy, arms flailing. A large stream of water flowed into the sky, intercepting his body, but not in the way she expected. He hit the water feet first and streaked downwards, coming to a slow halt about five feet off the ground, before lowering himself further and walking out of the water. He was breathing heavily, but was grinning as the water returned back to the river.

 

“That,” he panted, “was _awesome_.”

 

“What in the name of Pluto was _that?_ ” Jason asked, clutching his chest, “By the Throne I thought you were going to die!”

 

“I just fought Triton,” the Son of Neptune stated simply, “I got my ass handed to me, but I lasted a full thirty minutes before he punted me out of the River.”

 

“Half an hour? Against a god?” Leila asked, and Percy’s grin just got wider.

 

“Yeah, against a god,” he repeated, “I gotta go see Tony about the Free-for-all, but it was good talking to you guys. Enjoy your run, Jason?”

 

“It’s not over yet,” the son of Jupiter responded, “I’ll see you at the Free-for-all, Perce. May the best Cohort win.”

 

“I’m glad you’re supporting the Fourth then,” Percy elbowed Jason and then took off sprinting.

 

“What? Hey!” Jason cried out before laughing and continuing on his run, leaving Leila standing alone in the blink of an eye.

 

“Boys,” she muttered, before trudging back off towards the Fourth’s _Castra_.

 

**_Reyna_ **

 

Watching Percy at work was breath-taking at times. His training with Lady Salacia had honed his mind to a razor-sharp edge, and people were beginning to take notice, with Tony naturally leading the charge. He had begun running war-games among the cohort, with Percy commanding half while he led the other portion. This was one of those games, but this time, the other cohorts were permitted to watch. Reyna stood with her Centurion, Vanessa Grey, and the rest of the Second.  Jason was on the other side of the field, one of his trusted subordinates, Gwen McNamara, leaning into his ear as they watched.

 

Manoeuvring was the name of the game for this particular drill, with Percy trying to position his men in a superior position to engage Tony and his demi-cohort. The Centurion had the same goal, and it was interesting watch as each man tried his best to outthink the other. Percy had a natural skill, but Tony had the experience.

 

Percy brought his demi-cohort to a halt and quickly issued new orders. Reyna blinked and they were gone, having melted into the woods. Tony came to a cautious halt nearby, his head swivelling as he tried to figure out where his target had vanished to. His men formed a neat little circle, shields protecting their bodies as they waited for new orders. Vanessa _hmphed_ beside her.

 

“Smart boy,” she murmured, “he’s encircling Tony and he hasn’t realised it yet. Still, I give it about now when—”

 

Tony barked an indistinct order, but it was too late. Arrows flew out of the woods and from the hill above his demi-cohort, sticking into shields or the ground. None flew remotely close to a head. Two quick volleys were followed by a charge from all sides, Percy rushing downhill, driving a wedge into the protective circle that had been formed as Leila and her squad crashed in from the other side. Just as suddenly as they struck, they pulled back, and while Tony was turned to reorganise the sides that had been attacked, the other two sides got hit by the other two squads in Percy’s demi-cohort.

 

“If he can do this with thirty legionaries, I can imagine what he could do with a full cohort under his command,” Vanessa said more to herself than to Reyna, but the statement was enough that she felt confident responding.

 

“You don’t think it’s… un-Roman to attack like that? Distractions and diversions instead of a pitched fight?” She asked as the Praetor’s called the match, giving Percy the victory. While this was the first match she had watched, she knew that this was his third straight victory, after losing four to Tony.

 

“Un-Roman?” Vanessa snorted, “aside from his name, that boy is as Roman as they come. His strategies are adaptive, indicative of his capability. He understands that the legion is a force best used for direct conflict, but this isn’t a legion-strength deployment—a demi-cohort is best used as a strike-force, striking where possible and causing as much annoyance as possible when not. Jackson understands that. It’s a lesson we should teach more often, if I’m being frank.”

 

“You think he would act differently with a larger force?”

 

“Of course he would, any officer knows that while numbers don’t win battles, they certainly do help. I think if this was cohort against cohort—let’s say the Fourth and Fifth, and Jackson was commanding the Fourth, his strategy would’ve been much different,” Vanessa said, “maybe he engages them sooner. Maybe he doesn’t play cat and mouse, and instead draws his opponent into a fight at an earlier time and in a different place. This is all hypothetical, of course. We won’t see what he can do until he becomes a Centurion himself.”

 

“And how long until you see that happening?” Reyna asked, genuinely curious. She knew that with Jason already a centurion, Percy would be next. If he had been in a different cohort, Leila would have been the Fourth’s best bet, but this was the world they lived in.

 

“Tony’s got three more years,” Vanessa said, “So Percy’ll be nearly seventeen I think—a bit old for a newly minted Centurion, but I think he’s going to be a lifer.”

 

A lifer was a legionary who kept re-enlisting until they either died or were too old to serve. There were none in the legion at the moment, with the last lifer they had retiring a week before she arrived at Camp Jupiter, but even then, they were rare enough as it was. From what she had heard, most lifers became Praetor’s at some point. One of New Rome’s most famous lifers was Robert E. Lee, who had led the legion during the Civil War. Reyna wasn’t sure she could see Percy in the same position, if she was being honest with herself. He seemed capable of so much _more_.

 

Across the field, Tony and Percy were deep in discussion with the Praetor’s, and whatever was being discussed looked serious enough, judging by the way that Tony was angling himself between Percy and Maria. They had the tensest relationship, but it was also one built on mutual respect. That being said, they had gotten close to coming to blows more than once over the way that Percy did things, no matter what aspect of his life it was in.

 

Julia stepped forward, placing a hand on Maria’s arm before tipping her head towards the Second. The Praetor visibly huffed before she began stalking her way over towards them.

 

“Brace yourselves,” someone joked, “Hurricane Maria’s on it’s way and boy does it look like a bad one.”

 

There were a couple snickers that died down the moment that Maria came within earshot.

 

“Congratulations, Second Cohort,” she said as way of greeting, “you’ve been chosen to run the gauntlet against the Fourth.”

 

“Ma’am?” Vanessa asked with a frown.

 

“ _Princeps Posterior_ Giles and Praetor Lang have decided to run another war-game tomorrow, but with potential successors commanding the Cohorts, just to get a look. Legionary Jackson will be commanding the Fourth. You get to choose who commands the Second in your place. Pick wisely, Vanessa, because Jackson isn’t the usual kind of officer, and this isn’t the Fourth that we rose up the ranks with. We understood?”

 

“Crystal, ma’am,” Vanessa nodded, and Maria stalked off again, muttering curses under her breath. “Almost seems like an omen, doesn’t it Reyna?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” she responded.

 

“You’ll be commanding the cohort,” Vanessa added matter-of-factly, “don’t screw it up.”

 

Reyna blinked for a moment. It wasn’t the worst advice she had ever gotten.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy leads the Fourth in a war game against Reyna and the Second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please leave comments and let me know what you think!

**_Percy_ **

 

He knew that the Praetor’s weren’t _too_ keen on the idea, but to be fair, it wasn’t his. Lupa herself had come to tell the Praetors it was going to happen, which had led to the almost confrontation on the Field of Mars. He had learned quickly not to apologise for things that were beyond his control, which was why he had refused to do exactly that when Maria demanded answers from him. Percy wasn’t stupid—he knew that if he were anyone else, any lesser legionary, then he would’ve been put on a punishment detail, but like Jason, there was a sort of shield that protected him from the larger going-ons in the Legion. Training under a Goddess did that for one, apparently.

 

The Second was the best choice, and he knew it. They couldn’t pit the Fourth against the First, the wounds there were too fresh, and the Third wouldn’t stand a chance, despite what they might think. The Fifth was another good alternative, but nobody was quite ready to see if Percy could outgeneral Jason. Personally, he thought he could. Jason was a good leader, and a good strategist, but he hadn’t been trained the way that Percy had, first by Lupa and now by Salacia. The Second was almost as good as the First, and they had more then enough capable legionaries under their commands. He was facing off against Reyna too, which would be interesting. He hadn’t seen her much since the incident with Leila, and he found that it bothered him, though he couldn’t place exactly why.

 

“They’re looking pretty arrogant,” Leila noted from his left, serving as his second for the duration of the wargame. “They must think very highly of Reyna, or very poorly of you.”

 

“I don’t blame them,” he replied, “Reyna’s good—I’d wager she gives us a good fight here today. I’m not infallible, Leila, and unlike the last exercise, this is going to be a pitched fight. It could go either way.”

 

The wargame was done a bit differently than most of the others. Instead of the usual weapons, they had been gifted what were essentially wooden swords dipped in white paint, and he was sure there was some magic involved that would keep them from drying out. If a legionary was struck in the arms, they could have a medic wrap a cloth around it indicating they could fight, with a maximum of two ‘healings,’ but if they were struck in the torso or neck, they were ‘dead.’ It was a clever idea, and one that would be smart to implement in wargames from now on simply to prevent major injuries and accidental deaths.

 

“Yeah but come on Percy, do you _really_ think that we’ll lose?” Another legionary, James, asked.

 

“Nah,” Percy responded with a grin, speaking louder and louder so that the cohort could hear him, “this isn’t the Fourth that the legion thinks they know. This is the Fourth Cohort of the Twelfth Legion. We’ve a history stretching back millennia, dating back to Julius Caesar himself. This is the Fourth that fought against the Gallic tribes. This is the Fourth that helped defeat Vercingetorix. This is the Fourth that triumphed over the enemies for Rome, even long after Rome forgot us. I’ve had enough of the Fourth being seen as the home for misfits and outcasts, haven’t you?”

 

The cohort let out a loud cheer as Percy stalked his way up and down the lines.

 

“The Second, Jupiter Bless them, think that they’re better than us because of a _number_. Because they are the Second and we are the Fourth,” Percy spat on the ground, “our number doesn’t define us. Our actions _do_. Let the Second think they are better, but how about _we_ prove them wrong? I have a friend in the Second, and I’m sure many of you do too. Haven’t you ever felt stifled by the superiority they sometimes show over you? That tone they adopt when discussing the legion? It isn’t intentional, sure, but it’s _there_. Like a sore that needs to be lanced. Today, we get to be the lance. Let’s cut this sore out.”

 

Another loud cheer, this one echoed from across the field by the Second. Percy let his eyes drift momentarily to where he knew Reyna would be standing. She was upright and still, studying his cohort with interest, waiting for him to make the first move. He wouldn’t disappoint.

 

“ _Cohors! Ad aciem!_ ” He barked out, and the Fourth reacted, shifting into battle formation. He moved back to his spot at the front-right of the cohort, his shield in his left hand and his gladius waiting to be drawn from his right. His armour made him stick out like a sore thumb, and he knew he would be targeted by those who thought to get him out of the fight quickly. “ _Moveo!_ ”

 

He set the pace, leading the Fourth forwards, the Second mirroring the action. There _was_ one advantage that Percy had, and that was the fact that he knew exactly what Reyna was going to do, even if she didn’t know it herself. His friend wasn’t predictable, but in war, the Romans stayed with the tried and true method. Percy was trying to disabuse Tony of the notion that it was the only way to fight, and his past few victories were starting to win over the jovial Texan, slowly but surely. Reyna and the others, however—well they stuck with what they knew. She would march to meet with him, launch a volley of _pila_ , and then charge. But Percy moving his cohort gave him another advantage that the daughter of Bellona had failed to take into account, or if she had, she disregarded it as unimportant. There was a knoll in between them, and Percy was going to park his cohort right on top of it. The knoll itself wouldn’t give him an advantage, but it would provide cover, which was key for his plan working.

 

“Send the word back quietly,” he said to Leila, “Fourth through Sixth lines are to hold behind the Knoll and let the rest of us crest it. Once we engage the Second, they’re to wait for two minutes, then follow the gulley around behind them. They’ll know the signal when they hear it.”

 

Leila stared at him for a second before complying, shifting down the line, passing the order, and making her way back. He could hear confused murmuring coming from the squads in question, but there were no direct challenges to his decision, which in itself was a good sign. By the time they reached the knoll, Leila had relayed the order and returned to his side. He didn’t look back to see if the legionaries had obeyed—he knew they would, it was ingrained in each Roman soldier to obey orders, and no one would question them until afterwards, regardless on whether or not they succeeded or failed.

 

“ _Pila iace!_ ” Reyna’s voice carried over, confident and sure that she was doing the right thing.

 

“ _Ad testudinem!_ ” Was Percy’s counter order. Shields were interlocked in response, and the Pila, which had the usual metal tips replaced with wood, clattered uselessly to the ground. “ _Gladium stringe!_ ”

 

The rasp of swords being drawn was the only response he needed to hear.

 

“ _Oppugnare!_ ” Reyna bellowed as the Second broke formation to rush his cohort.

 

“ _Ue! Ue! Ue!_ ” Percy called out, knees bending in preparation for the impact of the bodies colliding.

 

There was nothing quite like the sound of two formation colliding. It was wood and metal and flesh. The static electricity in the air charged both sides, giving them a desire to fight more, fight harder. There was a desire, a fervour in each Roman that waited for the right opportunity to strike, and this was it. Swords shot out towards weak spots, leaving streaks of paint along arms, legs, and necks. Percy eliminated three different legionaries before Reyna showed up, her _gladius_ flicking a white gash along Leila’s arm, forcing her to retreat for a medic.

 

“You don’t really think you can win this, do you Percy?” Reyna asked, lunging for a strike but glancing it off his shield.

 

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” He replied emotionlessly, shoving her back, “what was it that Julius Caesar said? ‘Men are nearly always willing to believe what they wish.’”

 

That was when he signalled his second force. It was a truly simple signal, yet one that would cause everyone to pause, if only for a moment. It was a single, solitary thunderclap with some lightning added for good measure, a chunk of his will going into it. It exploded across the clear sky, and like he had expected, the fighting ceased for a few seconds, and they were key to his force regrouping and tightening up their lines as the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth squads emerged from the gulley behind the Second, letting out a cry of ‘ _Fulminata!_ ’ as they charged across the clearing, slamming into the now very confused rear lines of the Second. Reyna let out a curse and shot a glance over her shoulder, but the opening was all he needed.

 

He stepped forward, slamming the rim of his shield against her own and cracking it, before his sword shot forward, glancing a blow against the side of her neck and leaving a neat white line. But he didn’t escape unscathed. Reyna had realised what was happening and had countered, her blade scoring a line across the inner part of his elbow, and if they had been using real weapons, it would’ve opened an artery. It was no matter, because even with him ‘dead,’ his forces had won the battle. Centurion’s were valuable, sure, but they could be replaced. His force suffered comparatively less deaths than Reyna’s, which meant in the grand scheme, he won. Percy was a little peeved that he had gotten taken out, but he also knew that it was a sacrifice he was willing and able to make should the need arise.

 

A buccina sounded nearby, indicating that the drill was over. The two cohorts disengaged from each other as a group comprised of the Praetors and Centurions made their way over. Percy and Reyna stood at attention, side-by-side, as they waited for the officers to speak to them. Tony’s face was blank, but Percy could see the pride in his eyes, and knew that it was out of professional courtesy that he kept his emotions in check.

 

“You split your force,” Julia pointed out rather uselessly, “that could’ve gone very wrong for you.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Percy replied, “if the Second hadn’t advanced any further and assaulted, I would’ve assumed that they guessed my plan and would’ve changed it accordingly. But they didn’t, so I went ahead with it. It worked, Praetor.”

 

“It did,” Julia conceded, “but you can’t win all your battles through trickery, Percy, no matter what you may think.”  


_I already am_ , he wanted to reply, but he bit his tongue and instead gave a simple, “yes ma’am.”

 

“The Fourth takes this victory,” Maria said, “we’ll assess casualties now to see who suffered more. I see both Centurions were eliminated.”

 

Neither he nor Reyna said anything, and as Tony and Vanessa went through their respective cohorts, it quickly became clear that the Second, in their arrogance, had abandoned all sense of unity, and as a result had suffered much, much higher casualties than the Fourth. For every one of Percy’s soldiers that had been eliminated or wounded, at least three from the Second dealt with the same. He watched with silent amusement as Vanessa shook her head at the state of her Cohort.

 

“Eight deaths, six wounded, not including the Centurion, Praetors,” Tony reported. Vanessa took a shaky breath beside him.

 

“Sixteen dead and twenty-six wounded, not including the Centurion, Praetors,” she reported quietly, and Percy saw Reyna visibly deflate beside him. That wouldn’t look good on her record. He just hoped she didn’t hate him for it.”

 

“Cohorts dismissed,” Maria barked, “Jackson, Reyna, stay here.”

 

He didn’t fail to notice the way that his last name was always used, while Reyna’s was not. He knew she didn’t like her last name or people knowing it, but for the Praetor’s to accommodate her like that was surprising.

 

“You both did well,” Maria said, “Reyna, you failed to account for the half of his cohort that had vanished, but considering that the Fourth held the high ground, I can understand the belief that perhaps the reserves were being held on the opposite slope. That said, the total breakdown in discipline during the charge led to heavier casualties than necessary. If you had kept your legionaries in line, perhaps you would’ve been able to organise a counter attack.”

 

“Percy,” Julia continued, “you made good use of the terrain, and splitting your force, while a risky move, _was_ a brilliant success. I’d recommend two squads instead of three, however. Breaking your force down _too_ much isn’t something you should ever do in battle. The signal being as loud and bright as it was helped, but I noticed that quite a few of your men hadn’t been expecting it. Next time let them know so that they can adapt faster, though to be fair, they did pretty good all things considered. Overall, you did good, kid.”

 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Percy replied, keeping his face neutral. The Praetors nodded and walked off, talking to the Centurions. Percy turned to Reyna and held out his hand. “I’m sorry you lost. Still friends?”

 

She looked at his hand before nodding to herself and grabbing it.

 

“Yeah,” she said, and her voice seemed a little sadder than usual, but her attributed that to the loss. “ _Friends_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright let’s do some translating folks. I used battle commands that would’ve been used in the Roman Legions of yore because why not. Let’s break them down.
> 
> Cohors—Cohort, obviously
> 
> Ad Aciem!—Form Battle Lines
> 
> Moveo—what do y’all think it is?
> 
> Pila Iace—throw your pila
> 
> Ad testudinem—Form Testudo
> 
> Gladium Stringe—Draw your sword
> 
> Oppugnare—Charge!
> 
> Ue! Ue! Ue!—Brace! Brace! Brace!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy has a meeting with the Praetor's.

**_Percy_ **

****

“Legionary Jackson needs to go see the Praetors,” A runner declared, and most of the action in the _Castra_ stopped in an instant. Percy felt all eyes fly to him and he sighed before stopping his attack on the training post.

 

“Are you allowed to tell me why?” He asked, but the runner shook her head.

 

“Only that they need to see you, Centurion Grace, and Legionary Reyna,” there it was again, the use of only Reyna’s first name. It was amazing how far it had already spread, “that’s all I’ve got Percy. Sorry I couldn’t help more.”

 

“Thanks, Jessica,” he replied before turning to Tony, who shrugged and hiked his thumb over his shoulder. The message was clear. Percy turned in his _rudis_ and wicker shield before beginning to jog over to the Praetorium.

 

Jason met him halfway there, and Reyna was already waiting when they arrived, tapping her foot impatiently. They had barely greeted her when the door to the Praetor’s office swung open and they were called in. Maria and Julia each had their own individual offices, and then a joint meeting room, which was where they were right now. Lupa was present, in her human form, lounging on one of the couches. She was greeted with the proper honorifics, which she quickly waved off.

 

“War is coming,” she said without preamble, “and there are several matters that need to be dealt with. While the Legion prepares for war, you three will be carrying out tasks of immense importance. Jason, Reyna, you two will travel to Charleston in South Carolina. Fort Sumter has a cache of Imperial Gold weapons and armour that need to be recovered.”

 

“Yes, Lupa,” Reyna replied instantly, while Jason was silent for a moment.

 

“What about Percy?” He asked.

 

“The sea monster,” he said, drawing surprised glances from all but Lupa, “the water spirits are terrified. They’re begging for help, so much so that I can hear even here. Out of everyone here, I’m the only one qualified to track down and kill a sea monster, which is why I’m here. I’m right, aren’t I?”

 

“Who let you become so smart?” Julia grumbled under her breath, “I liked you better when you were quieter.”

 

“My praetors taught me well,” Percy said with an innocent smile, “along with several other teachers.”

 

“Suck-up,” Jason coughed, earning an elbow from him, but there was no heat behind it.

 

“You’re correct, however,” Lupa agreed with him, “but there’s an… additional problem which I’m sure you’ve considered already.”

 

“The Little Tiber leads out to the sea,” Percy grimaced, “and while the river isn’t huge, it’s large enough that a sizeable monster could feasibly get all the way into New Rome’s borders. That would cause many, many problems. Additionally, anything that can breathe underwater, like a Cyclops, would be able to march right into the city. Killing the sea monster, whatever it is, discourages anything else from trying to attack New Rome.”

 

“Correct,” Lupa gave him a sly grin, more predatory than anything else. “If you feel it necessary, collapse the river entrance to New Rome. The safety of our city is far more important than the feelings of a river deity.”

 

“That’s… not ideal, Mother Lupa,” Percy said carefully, “the Little Tiber, while an understanding river-god, is still prideful. Cutting off the source to the sea could cause more problems than it would solve.”

 

“Do you have another solution, then, Percy?” Julia asked, though he could see she was unsettled by the idea of a mere legionary dealing with a river-god.

 

“I could try and bribe him,” he said, “though it would probably require a shrine and somewhat frequent sacrifices. Perhaps we can get him a little bowl next to my father?”

 

Oh, it felt good to say that, and watching the way that Maria and Julia squirmed made him feel a little better than he had when he arrived.

 

“Peace, my boy,” Lupa said, though her eyes were filled with amusement, “we will cross that bridge when we get there. For now, your task is to find and kill this sea monster before it can cause any more problems for your father and his realm.”

 

“By your command, my lady,” Percy tipped his head, “I’m guessing I’m going now and alone?”

 

“As soon as you’re ready,” Lupa confirmed before giving him another, _incredibly_ predatory grin. “It’s been quite some time since _Crocea Mors_ has tasted blood, hasn’t it?”

 

Percy held in a curse as the others whipped on him.

 

“Your sword is _Crocea Mors_?” Reyna exclaimed, eyeing the ring on his hand. He saw Jason absently flip his coin through his fingers as he did the same. The Praetors were oddly silent.

 

“Would you look at that,” he said, rising as fast as he could, “I’ve got a sea-monster to hunt, and time’s a-wasting.” 

 

He didn’t even make it to the door before Julia called out to him.

 

“Stop,” she barked, “turn around. You don’t get to run away so easily, Percy.”

 

He sighed and turned, flexing his hand and concentrating, his ring transforming into the legendary sword. He flipped it in his hand and gave it hilt first to the Praetor.

 

“Just like the tales describe it,” Julia murmured, running her hand along the engravings, Maria hovering over her shoulder the entire time. “How’d you get it?”

 

“I gave it to him,” Lupa stated, “as to how _I_ got the blade—well, Nennius’ tomb fell into the sea centuries after his death, which meant that Neptune had the rights to the sword. He gave it to me shortly after he left Perseus in my care and instructed me to give it to him when he was ready.”

 

“ _Crocea Mors_ ,” Maria whispered to herself after Julia handed the blade over, “this is the weapon of Julius Caesar, Percy. Why did you never tell anyone you had it?”

 

“Tony knew,” he admitted, “so did Leila. I didn’t want word spreading because then people would react like… well like this. There would also be those who’d try and take it from me, and I didn’t—I don’t—want to spill blood over a weapon.”

 

The Praetors nodded to themselves before reluctantly handing the blade back to him.

 

“You’re all dismissed,” Julia said, “speak with your centurions, or address your cohort in your case Jason, and make a list of supplies you’ll need. We’ll try to spare what we can, but the Legion’s about to go onto the war footing, so keep that in mind.”

 

They gave the standard fist-to-heart Roman salute before exiting the office. Percy was about to take off when Jason grabbed his arm. He braced himself for a scolding.

 

“I get it man,” Jason said, catching him by surprise, “I wouldn’t want anyone getting twisted up over a sword either. I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”  


Relief washed through Percy and he pulled Jason into a hug.

 

“Good luck,” he said, “may Fortuna favour you.”

 

“And you,” Jason replied, “I’ve got to talk to Gwen and the others. I’ll see you back here in a couple hours, Reyna?”

 

“Sure,” she replied with a shrug. Jason smiled at her and then jogged off towards the Fifth’s _Castra_ , leaving him alone with Reyna.

 

“Be careful,” he told her before grinning, “and make sure Jason doesn’t do anything _too_ flashy, yeah?”

 

“I don’t think it’s Jason I need to worry about,” she replied with a grin of her own, bumping their shoulders, an action that sent an odd flush across his body, “you be careful too, Percy. I know you’re powerful and all, especially with all the training you’ve gotten lately, but you’re still mortal.”

 

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he told her, “I gotta go talk to Tony. I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”

 

“Okay,” she replied, and then she quickly raised up and planted a soft kiss on his cheek before rushing off. Percy stared at the spot she had been standing on as his hand rested on his cheek for a second. He could feel the goofy smile on his face, but it was the sound of marching that reminded him he had somewhere to be.

 

**XXX**

“A sea monster, huh?” Was Tony’s brilliant summation of what Percy had told him. “All right, I can see why you’re needed elsewhere. Marcus will take over your duties as my second while you’re gone. Do you know how long this’ll take?”

 

“Honestly? Not at all,” Percy admitted, “it could be a few days, weeks, or even months. Sea monsters are… well they’re very good at what they do. Tracking one down will definitely be a hunt. I’ll be as quick as I can, but beyond that…”

 

“I understand,” Tony said, cutting him off with a wave of his hand, “Gods be with you, Percy Jackson.”

 

“And with you, sir,” Percy replied. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed before releasing it. Percy nodded and turned, making his way to the Little Tiber.

 

Wading into the river was nothing new for Percy, but the moment he was completely submerged, he knew something was off. The river was charged with… anxiety? Anticipation? He couldn’t tell exactly what it was. He kicked off, following the river to the edge of New Rome, where it went down underground. He had only followed it once before, with Lady Salacia, and that was why he knew it led into the ocean.

 

Salt and fresh-water was an interesting thing when it came to being a son of Neptune. Salt water would always be better for him—it was directly tied to his father’s domain, and while freshwater could and would refresh him, there was an energy in salt-water that couldn’t really be described. It was like getting supercharged. But in the areas where fresh and saltwater mixed, where brackish water was found, was like having an energy drink. In the short term, he would be alert and aware of what was going on around him, but if he stayed in it for too long, it would cause him to crash. Salacia hadn’t had a good explanation for it and had eventually admitted that she didn’t know why his body reacted like it did to the mix.

 

That was why he spent as little time as he could in it, instead zooming right out into the ocean. The refreshing blast of being submerged in entirely salt-water hit him like a freight train, and _man_ it felt good. Within minutes of emerging into the ocean, an oceanid rushed over to him.

 

“You’re the son of Neptune, yes?” She asked, eyes wide as she looked around.

 

“I am,” he confirmed, “I’m guessing whatever monster I’m hunting is nearby?”

 

“You don’t even know what it is?” She asked quietly. He shook his head in response.”

 

“My lord,” the Oceanid trembled slightly, “it is the Trojan Sea Monster, that the Great Hercules slayed!”

 

“Oh,” Percy felt his breath catch in his throat, “that’s going to be a bit more troublesome than I imagined.”

 

“You understand my lord! You must bring more demigods to defeat this great and terrible monster!” The Oceanid declared, “you are not enough!”

 

_That_ was not the right thing to say, and Percy felt his anger flare. The Oceanid seemed to realise it too, judging from the way she backed up from him.

 

“Listen, lady, I am the only one here right now, and my job is to find and kill this stupid monster. Hercules did, and so will I. Now tell me where it is, or get the hell out of my way, got it?” He growled.

 

“It… it is to the west,” she flinched, and Percy felt a little bad for the way he spoke to her. Only a little.

 

‘West’ was a rather vague location, but Percy went that way anyway, because realistically, what chance did he have of finding it otherwise? The only problem was that the Pacific Ocean was _huge_ , and simply going west forever would only end with him in Asia or the Indian Ocean, so he would need to get some information, and he had a pretty good idea about how to do that. Sinking to the ocean floor, he fished a denarius out of the bag he had brought with him and placed it on the ground, sending a quick prayer to the intended recipient of the coin.

 

“Are you normally so rude to Oceanids?” The deep drawl of his half-brother came from behind him. Percy snatched the coin up as he turned around, holding it out. Triton took it silently.

 

“I’ve got a bit on my mind, my lord,” he admitted, “but my priority is the Trojan Sea Monster. I need to find and kill it.”

 

“That much is obvious, Perseus,” Triton sighed, “you know as well as I that I cannot simply give you this information for free. Training with you at my mother’s request is one thing. I will need a favour for this.”

 

“You only need to ask, my lord,” Percy replied, though it annoyed him to have to do so, not that he would let it show.

 

“There’s a conclave of Cyclopes that have deserted from Atlantis’ armies, hoping to serve Oceanus. Eliminate them and I will help you narrow your search down,” Triton told him, “but you must kill them _all_. If even one escapes, you must find it and end it.”

 

“By your command, Lord Triton,” Percy bowed his head, “do you happen to know _where_ these Cyclopes are?”

 

“Sixteen nautical miles to the north, another two to the east. There’s a small depression, and a cave hidden at the bottom of it,” Triton answered, “you’ll find them there. Try not to die, demigod.”

 

“I’ll strive to do my best, my lord.”

 

“I have no doubt of it,” Triton gave him a slight smirk, “sons of the sea are difficult to kill.”

 

He began to glow, forcing Percy to look away. When he looked back, his brother was gone, a long spear planted in the ground where he had been. It wasn’t for the Cyclopes, that much Percy knew. No, this weapon was for a larger, more dangerous prey. Percy was surprised by how much he was looking forward to the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter Ten

**_Percy_ **

****

Percy could say at the very least that Triton had given him precise instructions. He found the cave without any issue, and as his half-brother had told him, it was infested with a group of Cyclopes. What Triton had failed to mention was how well armed they were. He had said ‘deserters,’ so Percy had expected a rag-tag group of barely armed Cyclopes who found put up a decent but not major struggled. He hadn’t expected to find a well-armed and armoured unit of monsters ready to fight to the death.

 

“Crush you!” One of the Cyclopes roared out as Percy spun over the extended spear. Fighting underwater was still a bit alien to him, and being able to move not only side-to-side, but up and down as well made it that much more interesting. He sent a blasting current to his right, knocking the two Cyclopes trying to flank him away as _Crocea Mors_ opened up the first monster from hip to navel. It let out a brief cry before dissolving into golden dust.

 

The one-eyed warriors let out a cry before regrouping and then fanning out, clearly intending to surround him. Percy let out a slight groan, but instead of taking them all on, he held out his left hand and clenched it to a fist. The water bent to his will, the pressure increasing exponentially, catching the Cyclopes off guard as they found themselves fighting back against a literal wall of solid water. He considered upping the pressure even more, but if he could withstand it, the monsters would be able to as well. Cyclopes had been designed for the deep, and the only way to kill them was with immense power or conventionally. He didn’t have the energy nor the skill to wipe them all out with a thought, so it would have to be the latter.

 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t make it easier for himself. He opened a slight gap in the wall of water, allowing a single Cyclops to crash forward. Percy directed a jet of water at him, sending the creature crashing to his left, before bringing his gladius down in a vicious swipe, slashing open the monster’s head from top to bottom. This one didn’t make a sound as it died, which was incredibly disconcerting. He had never known a monster to be silent in its final moments of life.

 

He let out a huff as he looked around. There were nine more monsters left. It would take him too much time to take them on one by one, and it created too many opportunities for him to be wounded during the fighting. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Withdrawing the wall close to his body, Percy sat down, ignoring the sound of the Cyclopes beating on the water-wall and instead began taking deep breaths.

 

Salacia had made him do this a few times before, but never to the extent with which he was about to attempt. He focused on the water around him, drawing it in tight, packing it together so close that it became solid, like the wall currently around him. Then he shaped it, elongating it into razor sharp points. Into spears of water. Not one, not two, not even ten. Five dozen spears of water surrounded him, and the Cyclopes realised what was happening far too late. He let out a scream as he sent the spears flying, some missing, but many more hitting their targets.

 

The force behind the water was unstoppable, and the Cyclopes were sent flying back as they were impaled into the rock walls of the cave. Some of them cracked the stone, others were broken upon it, their bodies shattering before dissolving into golden dust. One survived the impalement and initial impact, only to be killed when part of the rockface above him broke off and crushed him to death.

 

Percy didn’t see any of this. The moment he had expelled that energy, he has passed out, drifting gently to the floor as the group of monsters around him all died. The dust that they left behind mixed with the water, a gentle current dragging it out into the ocean, where it was spread over hundreds of thousands of miles. He never noticed the arrival or the two immortal beings.

 

**XxX**

“You silly boy,” Salacia muttered under her breath. Triton made a non-committal sound beside her, but she knew he was impressed with what the demigod had just done. It was no major task for any god, but the focus and power required for a mere mortal to shape that much water? To control like he had without instantly passing out? That was what had impressed her.

 

“He will need to recover before taking on the Trojan Sea Monster,” Triton noted, “Jupiter will have a fit if we bring him to Atlantis, however—”

 

“Jupiter will have to understand,” she replied, waving her son’s concern off, “as he was the one who mandated that Perseus kill the beast. What cannot happen is your father interacting with him.”

 

“You can’t believe we can prevent it, do you?” he scoffed, “he hasn’t seen Perseus since the _incident_ as he refers to it, and has been anxious to see him again. Even Rhode can’t stop him.”

 

“Then we will have to band together to try,” Salacia said before giving her son a sly smile, “and _fail_.”

 

Triton stared at her for a moment before laughter bubbled out of him. It lasted for only have a minute before dying down, and then he appraised her again.

 

“You’ve grown fond of the boy,” he said, raising a hand when she went to speak, “don’t try to deny it, mother, I can see it clearly in you. Perhaps you didn’t mean to—or perhaps you did—but the fact it that it has happened. Father wants to meet Perseus desperately, but that you wish to _assist_ him in doing so? You wouldn’t do that for father alone. You want this for Perseus too.”

 

Salacia sighed, knowing her son was correct, and simply nodded in response. Triton shot her another look before scooping Perseus up in his arms, kicking up, and speeding out of the cave. She hesitated a moment as she thought of his words. She hadn’t intended to think of Percy as anything but her husband’s bastard. But he had wormed his way in, just by being who he was. Respectful, for sure, but still insolent. He believed what he believed and wouldn’t allow himself to be disabused of his ideals. In hindsight, he was much like his father, so it should be no surprise that he had won her over.

 

Knowing that Triton would be waiting for her, she gently kicked upwards and followed him out. He would take care of the boy while she informed her husband what was happening.

 

**XXXX**

Percy was still underwater when he awoke, but he most definitely wasn’t in the cave that he last remembered being in. The roof was made of some white material, and he was clearly in a bed of some sort. He slowly scanned the room around him, blinking in surprise when he found himself face to face with a dolphin.

 

“Ah, you’re awake,” the dolphin said. Not into his mind, like most sea-creatures would have. Spoke aloud like a human, or dryad would. “Lord Neptune was beside himself when Prince Triton carried you in, but from what I understand, you did Atlantis quite the favour by eliminating those deserters. They had some information that would have… aversely affected our war effort.”

 

Percy’s mind raced through the list of options he had in dealing with a talking dolphin before a particular story that Lupa had told him forced its way to the front of his thoughts.

 

“You’re Delphinus,” he said, “the God of Dolphins.”

 

“I am,” the god replied, before laughing, “you thought I was a talking dolphin? I apologise, I forget that many have never dealt with me before. Avert your eyes.”

 

Percy did so, and when he was told that he could open them, he found himself looking at an older man with a warm smile.

  
“This should be easier for you,” Delphinus said, “come now, the Queen wished to see you when you awoke.”

  
Percy rose, the feeling of being completely submerged a refreshing, if not unusual, change. He didn’t know how long he had been here, but it was clearly the longest amount of time he had spent underwater, judging by how alert he felt. He let Delphinus lead him through winding corridors, the movement oddly natural, as if the building they were in followed natural currents in the ocean. Thinking on it, he realised that was the intent, because the hall _did_ follow the currents.

 

“You’ll have to forgive the lack of ceremony,” Delphinus was saying, “the arrival of the Trojan Sea Monster near the city has caused some panic among the people. Only the brave leave their homes at the moment.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Percy replied quickly. “Uh, am I _allowed_ to be here? Aren’t there rules or something that prevent me from coming to Atlantis?”

 

“None that I am aware of,” Delphinus responded, “and if there were, what could be done? You are in your father’s realm, and only a fool would challenge him for something that occurs where he is strongest.”

 

That… made sense, actually. Percy just hoped it didn’t come to bite him on the ass later, when _he_ wasn’t in Atlantis. They emerged from the building to an indoor garden, all different forms of aquatic flora blooming in neatly organised patches. Lady Salacia was seated beside Triton, the two exchanging quiet words with one another. The spear that Triton had left for him was leaning against what Percy would best describe as a coral tree. Delphinus made a small noise and bowed before the two. Not knowing what else to do, Percy mimicked the action.

 

“No need for that now,” Salacia said, waving them up, “Triton, be a dear and go find your father, and inform him that Perseus is awake. Due to… construction, I would advise taking the scenic route.”

 

“Of course, mother,” Triton said with a tip of his head, barely sparing Percy a glance as he swam by.

 

“That was a very risky thing you did, Perseus,” Salacia told him once Triton was gone, “do you know how long you’ve been recovering?”

 

“No, my lad—” Delphinus gave him a slight nudge, “—my queen, I do not.”

 

“Nearly three weeks, my boy,” she told him, and Percy stiffened, “oh yes. I’ve been watching those mortals you associate with at your city. The son of Jupiter and daughter of Bellona returned a week ago, only to learn that there had been no news of you, and that reports of the sea monster still abounded. They believe you to be missing, or worse, dead.”

 

“I need to kill that monster,” Percy said automatically, “that’s my mission. That’s my objective.”

 

“You are falling back on Lupa’s teachings, Perseus,” Salacia noted, “you’ve been given a task, and to fail in the task is to fail your father, yes? Ignore those teachings. This is not a beast you can take head on. The Trojan Sea Monster is old and dangerous. Hercules killed it _once_ , and it has not perished since. It has become deadlier than ever before. It will take more time still to find and kill this beast.”

 

“Not that he should have to,” a new voice rumbled, and Percy turned to find himself face to face with a man he had only imagined before now. A pair of startling green eyes reminiscent of his own stared back at him. “Hello, my son. This day has been a long time coming, I believe.”

 

Percy blinked once before dropping to a knee.

 

“Lord Neptune,” the words flowed out of his mouth, “I thank you for seeing me.”

 

“Lupa trained him well, my husband,” Salacia chuckled from behind him, “look at how he greets you. Like a servant greeting his master, not a boy meeting his father. Are you still convinced giving him to her was the wisest idea?”

 

“Rise, Perseus,” Neptune said, not addressing his wife. Percy did so automatically, “calm yourself, my boy, there is no need for such formality. I _am_ your father, after all.”

 

“Yes, my lord,” Neptune sighed, and Percy corrected himself, “ _father_.”

 

“Give us a moment, wife, my old friend,” Neptune said to Salacia and Delphinus, respectively. The two quickly left the garden. His father looked upwards, a slight grin tugging at his lips. “Jupiter is trying to cast his gaze here, but he cannot see. I think he will be more upset that I got to meet you before he met Jason than he will be that we met at all.”

 

“Father?”

 

“Forgive me,” Neptune said, eyes returning to him, “I was musing aloud. I’m glad you are here, Perseus. I am glad that we are able to speak, even if it will be for a brief period of time.”

  
Neptune moved to the bench that Triton and Salacia had been sitting at, patting the spot beside him. Percy slowly lowered himself onto it, feeling incredibly small and—and _inferior_ sitting next to his father.

 

“I appreciate you speaking to me,” his father continued, “through my shrine. I know I cannot respond, but it means quite a bit to me, my son. You are worth more than you believe, and even if _you_ cannot see it, the friends that you surround yourself with do.”

 

“Even Jason?” It was a blatant test and they both knew it.

 

“Yes, even Jason,” Neptune smiled, “Son of Jupiter he may be, but he inherited very little of his personality. Nor much of his mother’s, either, which I suppose is why he turned out to be as good as he is.”

 

“Does everyone but him see it?” Percy asked, and Neptune nodded. The two settled into a slightly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes

 

“I will admit, I did not want you to hunt this monster,” his dad admitted, “it is a dangerous one, and it took the greatest demigod of his time, Hercules, to slay it the first time.”

 

“So everyone keeps telling me,” Percy said, “but that does not make it unkillable.”

 

“No, it does not,” Neptune agreed, “and if there were anyone able to kill it, it would be you, my son. That is why Triton gifted you this spear,” he motioned towards the weapon in question, “and that is why I will give you this—the monster is off the coast of Hawaii at the moment. It will not remain there long, only a few more days before heading back towards California—towards New Rome. Do not seek it. Let it come to you, at a place of your choosing, and of your design. That is where you will be able to strike. Do you understand?”

 

“I do, father,” Percy said, “I won’t fail you, I swear.”

 

“I know you will not,” Neptune agreed, “and that is why I have full confidence that you will succeed. Our time comes to a close. Any longer and Jupiter will be forced to intervene. Your armour is in the room you awoke in, and it has been mended and reinforced. Delphinus will escort you to the borders of Atlantis. May the fates favour you, Perseus.”

 

“Thank you, father,” he said, turning to look at him, but the King of the Seas was gone, having vanished without a trace. Percy blinked in surprise, but rose to his feet as Delphinus swam in.

 

“Follow me, young Perseus,” the god said, “you have a trial ahead of you, that much is certain.”

 

Percy couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In canon, Jason kills the Trojan Sea Monster, but it made more sense to me that Percy, the son of Neptune, would be the one to do it. It's more in his wheel house, which is why he's on this quest.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy meets the Trojan Sea Monster. Things...happen.

**_Percy_ **

All the signs indicated that the Trojan Sea Monster was heading for Camp Jupiter, which meant he had a massive advantage. He had spent nearly four days setting up the perfect ambush just outside the entrance to the Little Tiber’s underground cavern. The seaweed was heavy there, which gave him decent cover to wait for it.

 

The heavy spear that Triton had gifted him was laying next to him. He had studied it carefully since it had been given to him, and it had to be some form of artefact or heirloom. It was made entirely of the rare Celestial Bronze, but didn’t weigh much more than a pilum, though it was nearly four feet longer. There was some battle damage on it, but for the life of him he couldn’t place where it would’ve come from. Celestial Bronze went back before the Olympians were in power, so it feasibly could have come from anywhere.

 

It was on the sixth day that the monster approached. He felt it miles out, the vibrations it made as it swam towards him hitting him like a strong wind. He blinked at the force behind it. Gods, it must’ve been huge to displace so much energy. Percy let out a quiet breath as he grabbed the spear, bracing himself for what was to come. The Trojan Sea Monster wouldn’t be like anything Percy had fought before. Like Salacia had told him, it had yet to be killed since Hercules did it. Depending on how long it had taken to reform, he guessed that it had been stalking the seas for at least a millennium, if not longer.

 

It was closer now, less than a mile out, and Percy risked taking a peek to see if he could spot it.

 

Oh.

 

Yeah, that was a big monster. Percy blinked several times to make sure he was seeing it right. He was, and that made it all the worse. The monster was as long as two greyhound buses and maybe half as wide. It was, in essence, a massive snake, body weaving back and forth as it cut a path towards Camp Jupiter. If it got into the Little Tiber, it would have a strangle-hold on the city, being able to harass any demigods who were stupid enough to venture near the river. He wasn’t sure the legion would be able to kill the beast without suffering horrendous casualties.

 

Jupiter’s Throne, Percy wasn’t sure _he_ would be able to kill the beast without suffering horrendous casualties. He waited with bated breath as the monster approached, and when it was fifty metres away, he shot to his feet and hurled the spear with all the might in his body, using the water to propel it even faster.

 

The Celestial Bronze weapon shot through the water like a knife through butter, impaling itself in between the eyes of the monster, which let out a horrid scream as it thrashed about, slamming into the sea-bed and coming to a stop at Percy feet. He blinked once and then twice. That had been far easier than he expected. He swam forwards towards the monster. It hadn’t dissolved yet, but he bet when he pulled the spear out, it would finally die. He huffed as he thought about all the warnings different people had given him about the _mighty_ Trojan Sea Monster, but it died like any other. He gripped the haft of the spear tightly and—

 

It wasn’t dead.

 

In hindsight, Percy should have realised it wasn’t dead when it didn’t dissolve into monster dust, but in his arrogance, he had thought it had been that simple. He had thought he was dealing with a regular, stupid monster. That hadn’t been the case. The moment he grabbed the spear, the monster’s eyes opened again, and Percy realised just how screwed he was.

 

With a flick of its head, Percy went flying back, slamming into the rock face around the mouth of the Little Tiber’s entrance, groaning at the impact. _Something_ had broken, but he wasn’t sure exactly what, the water rushing to heal him. Percy flung himself to the side to avoid getting torn into mincemeat by the monster, drawing _Crocea Mors_ out of instinct, and scoring a thin gash along the Trojan Sea Monster’s neck. All that did was serve to infuriate the monster, which used its tail as a bat, and hit Percy into the mouth of the Little Tiber. Instantly, he felt the change in the water as it went form pure salt to brackish, but he didn’t have time to think about that, instead moving again to avoid another strike from the monster. The spear was still lodged in its head, and Percy was really running out of ideas on how to either remove it or force it deeper—

 

He hadn’t seen the tail again, and this time, it hit him with the force of a train. He also knew what bones were broken this time, and if he had to give a quick summary, it was about everything. His ribs, sternum, and collarbone all cracked under the force, and while the water was doing it’s best, there was only so much blunt force trauma Percy could take. Thankfully, his armour, reinforced by Atlantis’ greatest smiths, had tanked much of the blow, which was really a huge testament to their skill. Any other armour and he’d be dead from the impact.

 

Percy hissed as he moved again, his bones not properly healed, and he studied the monster carefully as he avoided its strikes. Its skin was too thick for _Crocea Mors_ to pierce, and he couldn’t see anyway to retrieve the spear without losing body parts. Worse still, they were creeping closer towards the mouth of the Little Tiber proper, and it wouldn’t be long before they entered the river inside the boundaries of New Rome. Another dodged strike, and that was when Percy noticed it.

 

The Trojan Sea Monster had a very large mouth. Continuing down that line, it also had a very large oesophagus. Much larger, even, than an armoured demigod. He could—gods, this monster was persistent—theoretically, slide down it’s throat, and maybe, possibly kill it from the inside. That would, however, require the monster keeping it’s mouth open long enough for him to get there, and hopefully it _wouldn’t_ be able to dissolve him instantly with its stomach acid. It was worth a try.

 

“Hey Lil’ T!” Percy called out to the river, “I’m not sure if anyone’s taking a dip right now, but if they are, you _really_ should get them out of the water.”

 

Normally, it would be suicide to address a river spirit like that, but Percy hoped the Little Tiber understood his lack of respect at the moment. If he survived, he’d give a big sacrifice to the river, among others. He wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but the water seemed to warm up just a little, almost as if it was letting him know that it had heard him and would help.

 

With a groan, Percy thrust his arms forward, and a pole of hard-water formed in the gaping maw of the monster, and after snatching _Crocea Mors_ back, he darted forward, sliding into the monster’s mouth. Despite catching on some of its teeth, he made it to the throat, and with a wave of water behind him, forced himself down the Trojan Sea Monster’s gullet. As he entered the literal belly of the beast, Percy thought about that old expression.

 

Fortune Favours the Bold.

 

**_Jason_ **

Something was in the water. That was all he knew, but whatever it was, it was big, and it was _moving_. The legion had been scrambled to a battle-ready state, but there was nothing they could do while whatever was down there was still submerged. All he knew was that if the sea monster had made it here, Percy had failed. Whether or not that meant he was _dead_ , he didn’t know. He also didn’t want to think on it. The Fifth was, as usual, anchoring the left, with the Fourth immediately to their right.

 

The Praetors were moving down the lines, giving words of encouragement to the legion, but Jason noticed each Centurion had detached to follow them. Knowing what that meant, he left Gwen in charge and moved to meet with them. Once they were all gathered, the Praetors spoke.

 

“Jackson failed,” Maria started without preamble, noticeably not looking at Tony, “we don’t know if he’s alive or not, but the monster made it here, and that means he failed in his task. How along ago that happened, I don’t know, but we’ve had no word from him or anyone else indicating that this was meant to happen, so until fur—”

 

She was interrupted by the monster breaching the surface, shooting straight up. Someone called for _pila_ to be made ready, but there was something about it that made Jason pause. The monster was thrashing, almost as if there was something wrong with it. Before any other orders could be given, a spiral of water rose around the body of the beast and began squeezing tightly, and that was when he noticed the glint. There was a spear sticking out of the monster’s head. In the time that it took Jason to put everything together, Julia had already figured out what was happening.

 

“Gods be good, Percy’s inside it!” She cried out, and Jason felt his heart skip a beat.

 

The monster kept thrashing and thrashing as clouds began to roll into the sky above them, and the water of the Little Tiber became choppier and choppier.

  
“We need to pull back,” he heard himself say, “we need to clear the area. This storm—”

 

“ _Legio!_ ” Maria bellowed, cutting him off, “ _recedere!_ ”

 

The Twelfth obeyed without hesitation, and everyone began moving backwards away from the brewing storm. Everyone but Jason. He heard people calling out to him, but he ignored them as he strode forward, breathing deeply as he focused.

 

“Sorry about this, buddy,” he said to Percy, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to hear him, “this’ll probably really suck for you.”

 

A massive bolt—no, two massive bolts—of lightning dropped from the sky, and Jason knew that his cousin had the same idea as him. The only bad news was that meant Percy was about to get hit by _two_ divinely summoned strikes of lightning. Jason flinched as they made contact, the water serving as a conductor and amplifying the results. The monster jerked and jittered as it was electrocuted, before finally collapsing forwards, slamming into the bank of the Little Tiber, spasming intermittently as it lay there.

 

Jason dropped to a knee, the effort from summoning such a large electrical strike having worn him out. Julia was at his side within minutes, helping him to his feet. After a few more moments of rest, he was able to walk on his own. He led the small group of officers that approached the monster, which somehow hadn’t dissolved. Maybe it was a different breed? One that would decay instead of dissolving into—

 

It wasn’t dead. How in his father’s name want it dead? The beast opened its mouth, eyes snapping open as it prepared to lunge at them. Jason began summoning another bolt, but he doubted it would reach the monster before it could kill him and the other centurions. The monster recoiled in preparation for its strike, but before it could attack, a massive chunk of it’s body below the head vanished, erupting into a golden mist and chunks of flesh. The beast shuddered one last time before collapsing forward.

 

And crawling out of the gaping hole in the monster’s body, covered in golden ichor and red blood? None other than Percy Jackson, a twisted grimace on his face. His cousin scrambled forward, hurling onto the ground, coughing up a combination of ichor, blood, and water. After a moment, he collapsed onto the ground, rolling onto his back and clutching his sides. Jason and Tony were next to him in a moment.

 

“What in the name of the gods was that, Percy?” Jason demanded as Tony’s hands roamed his body, looking for injuries.

 

“Fortune favours the bold,” Percy laughed, before coughing. Jason flinched as blood came up, more than should ever happen. Tony swore and began stripping Percy’s armour off, and once the cuirass was removed, Jason joined the centurion in swearing.

 

Percy’s chest was a mass of bruises, and one of his ribs was poking out of the flesh. Beside them, the monster finally dissolved into dust, a breeze coming in and blowing it away, but Jason’s mind was on his cousin. This wasn’t the first time he had seen an injury like this, and he had never frozen in the past. This time was different. This was personal, and Jason felt like his heart was in his throat. He couldn’t speak, but he was fortunate in that there were others there who reacted quickly.

 

Tony called for medics instantly, and Julia dropped to the ground beside him, her cape coming off as she tore it into pieces, wrapping up the myriad of cuts along Percy’s body. Compared to the panic around him, Percy was oddly at peace, a content look on his face. He reached out and grabbed Jason’s hand as the medics arrived.

 

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, “New Rome is safe. The Legion is safe. That’s all that matters. That’s all that ever mattered…”

 

Jason didn’t know how to respond to that, but he never got the chance, as his cousin was lifted onto a stretcher. Michaela Haley, the Centurion of the First, picked something off the ground and slipped it into Percy’s hand as he was carried away, the legion parting solemnly as he was rushed to the tent of the _Prima Medicus_ , Dustin Cole. If anyone would be able to help Percy, it was Dustin.

 

“C’mon kid,” Tony said softly, helping Jason to his feet, “let’s go get you cleaned up. You can’t help Percy if you’re a mess.”

 

It was only then that he realised he was covered in his cousin’s blood. So were Tony and Michaela, but for Jason… Percy had suffered so much. He had suffered under his stepfather, suffered under Lupa, and then suffered under the Legion, and he was still the same self-sacrificing ass he had always been. To Percy, the only thing that mattered was Rome, but he never stopped to wonder what would happen if he _were_ to die. He never wondered how people would react.

 

Jason hadn’t had a family since he was three, but then, two years ago, his brave, selfless, idiotic cousin had shown up, and the gods be damned if he was going to lose the only family he’d been gifted with. Jason had suffered too—not to the extent that Percy had, but he’d lost his first family. He wasn’t going to lose this one too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave a review and let me know what you think! I was kinda inspired by that mission from Gears of War 2 when Delta goes into that worm, so yeah.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**_Reyna_ **

She didn’t know why she was allowed to join the group that went to visit Dustin, but she wasn’t going to turn down the option to see Percy. Jason and Leila were there too, along with Lupa, the Praetors, and Tony Giles, Percy’s Centurion. It had been nearly eighteen hours since Percy had been rushed to the hospital after clawing his way out of the monster’s stomach. Reyna had briefly seen him as he’d been carried by, but it wasn’t until she had seen Jason, Tony, and Julia, all covered in Percy’s blood, that she realised just how bad it was.

 

Dustin gave the group a once over as he washed his hands, scrubbing them clean of any blood that might remain. Once he was certain he was clear, he stepped into the waiting room where they were.

 

“He’s alive,” he said without preamble, and Reyna noticed that Lupa seemed to sag in relief, if only slightly, “but it was touch and go. We lost him three times. His body has been beaten to hell and back, and it’ll take him months to fully recover, even with all the magical healing properties we can scrounge up. The entire left side of his body was shattered, and as you saw, one of his ribs was protruding from his chest.”

 

Tony reached out and grabbed Leila, who had collapsed forward as Dustin spoke, but he wasn’t done. Maria kept a hand on Reyna’s shoulder, and she was pretty sure it was the only thing that kept her upright.

 

“In addition, his right arm was broken at three different point, and we found two puncture wounds on his left leg that just barely missed a major artery,” Dustin was staring at Lupa the entire time he spoke, his voice clinical, his face neutral, “his jaw is broken and needed to be wired shut and his back is a mess of stitches. It was already extensively scarred, but now? His back is pretty much going to be at least eighty percent scar tissue. His lower legs have some acid burns which I’m guessing came from being in the stomach of that monster, but those’ll heal with time and the right medicine. We’ve set all his bones and lowered him into the saltiest water we could get, but even then, it’ll take months to heal and even more time for physical therapy.”

 

“No brain damage?” Lupa asked quietly, her voice softer than Reyna could ever remember hearing it.

 

“It’s hard to say,” Dustin admitted, “until he’s conscious, I can’t even begin to fathom what kind of head injuries he may have sustained while fighting this monster, whatever it was. I’ve only heard rumours that it was massive, and I have to say, it would take a truck to do this kind of damage to a mortal, and most of them would never have lived. Percy’s a fighter, Lady Lupa. He wasn’t going to go quietly.”

 

“The Trojan Sea Monster,” Lupa confessed, “it was the Trojan Sea Monster. From what I understand, it had been hiding in the depths for nearly two thousand years, since reforming after Hercules killed it.”

 

Jason let out a sharp hiss, before turning and storming out of the hospital. No one said anything, letting the son of Jupiter go where he would. Reyna just hoped he didn’t do anything stupid.

 

“That explains a lot,” Dustin said, “I’m going to keep him under observation until I decide otherwise. If I deem him able to be moved, he should be taken to the Fourth Cohort until he’s able to start physical therapy… and maybe start seeing a therapist as well. Extreme trauma… it can cause issues beyond just what’s done to the body. The mind needs to heal as well. I’d talk to Percy about it when he’s coherent. Until then, you can see him.”

 

Leila instantly started moving for the door, but Dustin blocked her off.

 

“No, not you,” he said, “you’re far too emotional right now, and I don’t want you seeing him like this. Nor you, Reyna. The Praetors, Centurion Giles, and Lady Lupa may enter. That’s it. No one else.”

 

“What?” Leila’s eyes sparked with anger, but Lupa stepped in, placing a hand on her shoulder.

 

“It’s all right, my dear,” she said, but there was an undertone of warning in her voice, “you will get to see him soon. For now, you and Reyna must go find Jason. He needs the company more than Perseus does.”

 

Leila looked ready to argue, but Reyna grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the hospital. Once they were clear of the door, the daughter of Ceres batted her hand off.

 

“Why’d you do that?” She demanded, getting right in Reyna’s face. If she was planning to swing at her again, she was ready.

 

“Because that was a _goddess_ you were about argue with,” Reyna reminded her, taking a step back, “I know you want to see Percy—I do too, but we’ve been told _no_ , not only by the head surgeon of the legion, but by Lady Lupa too, the closest person Percy has to a mother. She told you that you’d be able to see him soon. She also just told us to go find Jason. Do you _really_ want to challenge her right now?”

 

Leila was silent for a moment, but eventually she nodded.

 

“Do you know where he’d be?” she asked. Reyna shrugged.

 

“One of three places,” she replied, “he’s a lot like Percy—his father’s temple, the Field of Mars, or up in the mountain path.”

 

“How is that like Percy?” Leila asked in confusion, “not the first two, those I get, but the mountain path?”

 

“It’s like being in the water for Percy,” she explained, “it’s as close as he can get to his father without literally being in his domain.”

 

“So, you think that’s where he is?”

 

“I said it was one of _three_ options, not _the_ option. If he’s not at the Temple of Jupiter or the Field of Mars, then that’s where he would’ve headed.”

 

“You know him pretty well, huh?”

 

“Spend two weeks with anyone and you’ll learn _something_ about them,” Reyna pointed out, “and I’ve known Jason for two years. Same with Percy. They’re more alike than people think, if you can look under the surface.”

 

Leila didn’t respond, instead following silently to first the Field of Mars, which was lacking in a son of Jupiter. They then looped around to the Temple of Jupiter. Octavian was there, reading the portents, but there was no sign of Jason. She was about to turn towards the mountain path when she noticed the door to the Shrine of Neptune was slightly ajar. She motioned to Leila quietly and peeked in.

 

Jason was kneeling at the altar, speaking to it as if he was having a conversation with the god, which, come to think of it, was probably what his intention was.

 

“Uh, hey, Lord Neptune,” he was saying pretty awkwardly, “I know I’m probably not welcome here but, well, Percy would have wanted to come pray after dealing with the Sea Monster, and since he’s… well, I’m doing it for him. I don’t actually know how he prays, but he told me that he likes talking to you, so I guess here I am? I don’t know, I’m rambling, but the point is I’m giving thanks on Percy’s behalf for any aide rendered in dealing with the monster. Personally, I’d ask that you do what you can to help him heal. His body… his body was destroyed in that fight. It’s honestly a miracle he’s still alive. It’s a miracle that Dustin thinks he’ll be able to heal enough to walk, move, and fight again without pain, but then again, he never said as much. Only that Percy would need physical therapy. Maybe he’ll never fight again.”

 

Jason let out a shuddered breath. Reyna was barely breathing, so as to make as little noise as possible. Leila was in a similar state. What they were watching here was nothing short of miraculous. A son of Jupiter praying to Neptune? It was one of the rarest things in the Olympian world.

 

“Gods, he’d hate that. Knowing Percy, he’d feel as if he’d let Rome down, that he somehow failed. You’ve got a good son, Lord Neptune,” Jason continued, “he’s a true Roman. He’s the only family I’ve got left. Thalia’s gone, probably dead, and I don’t doubt that my mother’s long dead as well. I still don’t know what happened with that, but I’m not here to talk about myself, sorry. I don’t want Percy gone, Lord Neptune. I’m sure you don’t want that either, but if he doesn’t heal, then he will be. He’d never be the same. I don’t think he could live with himself.”

 

Reyna backed away, gently closing the door.

 

“We should wait out here,” she said, “I think we eavesdropped enough. He’ll come out when he’s ready.”

 

Leila nodded without a word. She was still trying to process the scene that they had just witnessed.

 

**XXXX**

It was an entire week before they were allowed to see Percy, and even then, it was only one at a time. Jason had gone first and had been with him for nearly two hours before he left, his face blank, but his eyes alive with anger and fury. Reyna didn’t doubt there would be some injuries on the Field of Mars soon. The son of Jupiter had been an unstoppable force recently. Leila went next, by dint of being in Percy’s cohort, but Reyna wasn’t going to argue with her. She was only in there for an hour before she was escorted out by a nurse, tears streaming down her face.

 

When she entered his room, her heart shattered. One leg was wrapped in a cast and elevated, while the other was covered in stitches. His chest was covered by a cast, and his arms were being held in place by pins, while his neck was supported by a brace. His chest rose and fell gently, but that was the only activity she saw out of him. For all intents and purposes, Percy was comatose. She took a seat next to his bed, trying to think about what she could even say to him—if she could even say anything at all.

 

“I didn’t think you were still alive,” she admitted, “when I got back from South Carolina, and they told us you hadn’t been heard from since you left. And it… it scared me. The thought that I would never see you again. Never be able to say goodbye properly. I’ve been kind of distant lately, and I’d have hated myself if that had been how you remembered me as you died. Distant and aloof.”

 

There was no response, of course, but Reyna pressed on.

 

“I really like you, Percy, and this is probably the only time I’ll openly admit that,” she told him, “Leila does too, and we both know it. We were friends once, but then you had to show up and be stupidly gallant, and distractingly handsome. Lupa said you look just like your father, and that’s why you were cursed to be desired by women. I thought she was joking, but I honestly believe her now. But she also said that your nature had to have been your mother. That much love… that desire to _help_? It couldn’t be Neptune, she said. Neptune was good and powerful, but he was still a god. There was a level of detachment that he exhibited as a god. Lupa loves you like a son, which you know, so I don’t doubt her. The fact that she would acknowledge your birth mother for your nature and not herself speaks volumes of the kind of woman she was—is.”

 

“She was one of a kind,” a deep voice spoke softly for the shadows, and Reyna jerked upright and spun around. Sitting in a chair was an armoured man clutching a trident in his hand. It was Percy, but older, with more lines on his face and a neat beard. “Sally was her name. Clear-sighted, and not afraid of anything in the world.”

  
“Lord Neptune,” she breathed, but the god cut her off with his hand.

 

“Lupa is correct,” Neptune said, “his nature is that of his mother. Sometimes you see echoes of me in him. His rage. His stubbornness, but everything that is _good_ about him is Sally.”

 

“What—why are you here, my lord?” She asked him, voice trembling as she spoke. If he was here because he didn’t think Percy would—no, no that couldn’t be it. Neptune seemed to read the panic on her face.

 

“He is well,” he said quickly, “healing as a mortal does. That is why I am here. I have spent the past week negotiating and arguing with my younger brother. We have made a deal.”

 

“My lord?”

 

“Just this once, Jupiter will allow me to heal my son. Not fully, of course, but enough that he will not be crippled for life,” the god explained, moving over Percy, a hand hovering over his cheek. “But I will never see him again. I will not be permitted to visit him in his dreams, nor speak to him in my temple. If he somehow makes it to Atlantis again, I will be forced to turn him away. Salacia is permitted to continue training him, but she cannot carry messages on my behalf. I just cut off all contact in any way or form with him. That is why I am speaking with you. Percy cares for you. Easily as much as you care for him. I need you to tell him why I am absent. I need you to tell him why his prayers to me will never be answered.”

 

“My lord, surely—”

 

“Lupa was wrong about one thing, however,” he ignored her, “I love as strongly as any person can, but I love Percy more than anything in the world. _That_ is why I am doing this, daughter of Bellona. I would rather never see him again and know that he will be whole than see him everyday but have him broken. I’m going to need the room, my girl.”

 

Reyna rose automatically, but before she could leave, Neptune called out to her.

 

“Promise me you’ll tell him what I told you, Reyna Avilla Ramirez-Arellano,” he said, ignoring the way she flinched at her name, “swear it to me, on the Black Stone.”

 

“I-I swear it on the stone, my lord,” Reyna assured him. He gave her a weak smile in return.

 

“Thank you, girl. I understand what Percy sees in you.”

 

The door closed of its own will, the last thing Reyna could see being Neptune hunched over his son, his hands glowing a warm orange.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**_Lupa_ **

Word of Neptune’s bargain with Jupiter spread quickly among the godly world, and never had Lupa felt as shamed as she did now. Reyna had told her what happened first hand, had relayed the conversation verbatim, and Lupa knew she had sorely misjudged the Sea God. She had always thought he had left Percy with her because his mother demanded it, but looking at it now, she saw the truth. He had given her Percy because he had no other way to insure his son’s safety.

 

She had looked into his memories, all those years ago, to try and understand why he flinched at the slightest movement, and what she saw had enraged her to the point that she almost went and hunted down the mortal who harmed the boy so. But she had withheld. If anyone should kill that wicked human, it would be Percy. Her mind went back to the meeting with Dustin Cole, two months prior.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_The Prime Surgeon had waited for Reyna, Jason, and Leila to leave before he turned to Lupa and the Praetors._

_“I’m going to lose my temper now,” he warned them. The Praetors exchanged looks, but Lupa simply nodded at him. “What in the name of the gods were you both thinking?”_

_“The monster needed to be dealt with,” Maria defended, her voice iron._

_“You sent a single demigod, not even sixteen, to deal with a monster that we knew little to nothing about?” Dustin scoffed, “excuse me if I find that to be a poor excuse, Praetor Maria. I’ve been in this legion since the Michael Varus expedition. I’ve seen lives been thrown away for poor reasons, but this? This screams of purging.”_

_“That’s a bold accusation,” Lupa told him, a growl creeping into her throat, “and one completely unfounded.”_

_To his credit, Dustin didn’t even blink._

_“Is it?” He countered, “Jason and Reyna were sent to South Carolina to recover a cache, but because Percy is the Son of Neptune, he was sent to kill the sea monster. One, I hasten to add, we knew was coming here. We could’ve prepared. He didn’t need to go out looking for it, it was going to come to us. Let me explain to you what this looks like to me—The Son of Jupiter got sent on the laughably easy quest to go find equipment, knowing where he would have to look, and what he was looking for. The Son of Neptune, on the other hand… he gets told there’s a Sea Monster out in the ocean somewhere. He’s told that it’s harassing Neptune’s realm, and will be coming for New Rome next. He’s not told what he’s hunting, nor what it looks like. He isn’t given any back up, or assistance from the Legion. He’s just told to ‘go and kill it’, and that’s the end of the matter.”_

_“So maybe you didn’t want him to be killed,” Dustin conceded, “but it wouldn’t have bothered you if it did happen. Purging was the wrong term. It’s favouritism, plain and simple. You tolerate Percy because he’s a good soldier, and a terrifying warrior, but neither of you particularly like him. You’re First and Second Cohorts, respectively. The idea that someone from the Fourth might someday take your place? That it would be a son of Neptune? I think that scares you. I think that’s why you let him run off half-assed. Correct me if I’m wrong.”_

_Neither Praetor had answered, and Tony Giles looked at them in horror. That had been when Lupa stepped in._

_“I suggested Percy for the quest,” she said softly, “the Praetors merely followed my advice.”_

_“No offence, Lady Lupa, but that’s entirely beside the point,” Dustin had replied, “you train us to serve the Legion, to serve New Rome. But you raised Percy on those ideals. He knows nothing but service to Rome. You could tell him that he needs to storm Mount Orthys on his own, and he would do it because he trusts you. You’re as culpable for his injuries as they are. Do you want to know what I didn’t say while the younger three were here? Let me tell you exactly what I’m worried about—”_

_“Six of Percy’s vertebrae are cracked, and he has nerve damage in his right arm. I’ve done what I can, but I honestly don’t think he’ll be able to move normally or hold a sword. Can you imagine, as a warrior, what that does to a person? What it’ll do to him?” Dustin took a deep breath. “I have always done my job with little to no questioning, Praetors, but I am a doctor first and foremost. I am also a civilian, not a legionary, if you remember. This… this looked like a poorly attempted assassination. Not directly, of course, but somewhere, in the back of your minds, the part that all the political schemes you come up with are, you know that I’m right. Now, get the hell out of my hospital, before I really get mad.”_

_The Praetors had left without a word, and Dustin had turned to her then._

_“Lady Lupa, you know I respect you more than anyone, but I’m going to have to insist that you leave too. Percy needs to heal, and frankly, I don’t think you can help in any regard,” he had said, braver and more confrontational than most who had ever talked to her, “I’ll make sure he knows you visited, if he ever wakes.”_

_Anyone else, she would have torn them apart. Throne, she would’ve done it regardless if there hadn’t been any truth in his assessment of not only the Praetors, but herself. Dustin was right—she had raised Percy to obey her without question. Her mere presence at the meeting with the Praetors had assured that he wouldn’t question why he was being sent alone. He hadn’t wanted to fail Rome. To fail her._

_“A rather harsh assessment, don’t you think, Lupa?” A voice she hadn’t heard in millennia asked. She tensed, not particularly wanting to talk to this deity._

_“Hello to you as well, Salacia,” she greeted, turning to face the queen of the seas._

_“Of course, I do rather believe that the good doctor was accurate in his assessment,” Salacia continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And I happen to be in agreement with him.”_

_“There was… some truth in his statements, perhaps,” she conceded, but only the once._

_“I believe there was more than some truth, my dear,” she chuckled mirthlessly, “I’ve spent quite some time with Percy, you see. Not as much as you, of course, but enough to notice several things about him. Do you know what he does when he panics? He falls back onto your teachings. He has an objective, he needs to complete the objective. To fail the mission is to fail Rome. To fail you. You’ve surely noticed this?”_

_Lupa nodded once, not sure how to respond._

_“I’ve tried to teach it out of him, but you have a six-year head start on me,” Salacia sighed, “I don’t think I’ll ever get to expunge it from him now. The poor boy’s shattered in mind and soul alike. His body has failed him; therefore, he’s failed you. I can feel his anguish from here, subconscious as it is.”_

_Lupa had instantly reached out, and to her dismay, the Sea-Goddess wasn’t lying. Even comatose, Percy’s emotions were bright, almost illuminating the aura around him. Worse so, his emotions were in turmoil. Pride, in knowing that he had killed the beast. Shame, in knowing he hadn’t prevented it from reaching New Rome. Shame, in knowing that he hadn’t been able to kill it alone. Shame, in knowing that his body had been broken. Shame, in knowing that he had failed—_

_She jerked away, having felt enough of his soul-thoughts._

_“Why are you here, Salacia?” She demanded._

_“Because, Lupa, like you, I’ve grown to care for the boy.”_

_That… hadn’t been the answer she was expecting._

_“But unlike you, I can no longer help him,” Salacia pressed onwards, “I cannot teach him anything else. My time with him is done, and thus, I will have no excuse to come here. You, on the other hand, can. You taught him how to be a good little Roman. How to obey. I taught him how to lead. Now, it is your turn again.”_

_“And what would you have me teach him, Salacia, that you cannot?” Lupa asked, though she had a feeling that she would not like the answer._

_“The same thing you taught Romulus and Remus. That you taught Caesar and Augustus. The lessons you imparted on Trajan and Vespasian,” Salacia said, “teach him how to rule.”_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Teach him how to rule_.

 

The words rang through her head every day. Salacia was far shrewder than Lupa had given her credit for. She had watched the Legion as much as she had watched Percy. She had seen what Lupa had seen but refused to admit to herself. A single, fundamental truth that she had ignored, because there was an alternative.

 

Percy would lead the Legion.

 

She knew Jason would come first. Of course he would, he was the Son of Jupiter. He would become Praetor, and he would be a well respected one. But Percy… Percy could lead them into Tartarus, and they would follow him. He could tell them that the world was their birthright, and they would let him lead them into a war against the mortal world. He could tell them _anything_ , and the Legion would soak it all up. He was charismatic in a way that hadn’t been seen since Julius Caesar himself. Since Germanicus, Vespasian, and Marcus Aurelius.

 

Lupa still remembered what she had said to Diana, all those months ago.

 

“In another age, he would have been an Augustus,” she had said. Diana had just smiled at her, and at the time, she hadn’t known why. Now she did.

 

Percy didn’t need another age. He didn’t need for the condition to line up. He would _make_ them. It would bend to his will, or it would break. That was her boy. Unyielding, uncompromising where it mattered. He would bend, if it suited his needs, but he would never, ever break. The world would shatter before Percy compromised his beliefs. His will.

 

Now she understood why the Praetors feared him. They didn’t just see him as a potential successor. They saw him as a _claimant_. He was a threat to their rule. He didn’t need to become Praetor to be more powerful than them, and that was what scared them. She saw it clearly now. Percy was building a rapport with the _next_ generation of officers. Michael Kahale of the First. Reyna of the Second. Hank of the Third. Jason in the Fifth. He didn’t need the current officers, only the next ones.

 

A loud squawk drew her attention as an eagle descended from above the tree line, dropping a rolled piece of paper at her feet. A message from the legion, then. She contemplated ignoring it, just letting it be as she returned to her thoughts. It would be so easy to let them handle whatever issue had arisen, to let them prove they could stand without her. But that was not her mandate. She was, by oath, at the beck and call of the Legion, though they very rarely summoned her without a very, very good reason.

 

She unrolled the parchment , the first sentence stopping her in her tracks.

 

_Legionary Jackson is awake_ , it read in the neat script of the Prime Surgeon, Dustin Cole, _his most serious wounds have been healed, somehow. He will still need several months of physical therapy, but I expect that he will be as he was before by spring. He wishes to speak with the Lady Lupa when she is able._

It wasn’t signed, but nor did it need to be. She let out a shaky breath but knew where she had to be. In a flash, she found herself in an abandoned room of the hospital. He was several rooms down, his life force alive, but dulled. When she entered, Reyna was sitting by his side, a sorrowful expression on her face. Percy’s own features were schooled into a neutral expression, and that was how she knew he had been informed of what his father did.

 

“Lady Lupa,” he greeted her. It was the first time in years he had referred to her as such, and it broke her heart that he would do so. “I’m sorry. I failed you.”

 

“Would you mind leaving us for a moment, Reyna?” She asked the girl, eyes not leaving Percy’s. Only once they were alone did she speak again. “You did not fail me, Percy, and if you say something so stupid again, I will smack you once you are well.”

 

“ _If_ ,” he corrected, “my father did what he could, but the damage to my body was extensive. Dustin read the reports to me. I’m useless as a soldier right now, and I may never be _useful_ as one again. I’ll be discussing with my Centurion my options for the future.”

 

“You _will_ heal, Perseus,” Lupa told him forcibly, “and once you are well, we will resume your training.”

 

“My training?” He asked, confusion slipping into his voice, “forgive me, but I was under the assumption my training with you was over.”

 

“Your martial training, yes,” Lupa said, “but there is more yet that I can, and will, teach you. I prepared you for war. Now I will prepare you for the peace that follows. You’ve a mind for these things, Percy. Unless you do not wish to learn?”

 

“No, I just—What about Lady Salacia?”

 

“The Queen of the Seas has informed me that she has taught you all that she can,” Lupa told him, “but I have not. Do you consent?”

 

Percy was silent for a few moments, and Lupa gently probed his mind to try and find out what he was thinking, but unlike when he was unconscious, Percy’s thoughts were guarded now. So well-guarded, in fact, that she rather suspected there were some divine wards on his mind. Those could only have come from one person.

 

“I will train with you if I am healed, Lady Lupa,” Percy said finally, “but until then, I can’t make any promises.”

 

“I understand, my boy,” she said. “When you are healed, then.”

 

Percy didn’t respond, and she left the room. There were several others waiting for him outside. She hesitated a second before waving them in. Jason, Leila, Michael Kahale, and Tony Giles streamed past her, the Centurion pausing a moment as he scrutinised her, before shrugging and entering Percy’s room. Ever since Dustin’s outburst, the Centurion of the Fourth had been callous with the Praetors, and hesitant with her. Not outright disrespectful, but he was slow with honorifics compared to the others. She had tolerated it before, but after today, no more. She would speak with him privately, later. For now, she would allow him to rejoice in Percy’s awakening.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Percy have a heart to heart.

**_Jason_ **

By Saturnalia, Percy was allowed to leave the hospital. Jason had watched with amusement as his cousin was smothered with attention, much to Percy’s overall discomfort. The only one he didn’t seem to mind fussing over him was Reyna, something that had pleased her and displeased Leila. If Percy wasn’t careful, the two would come to blows _again_. Jason honestly wondered if Percy didn’t see it, or if he ignored the tension between the two, but it was clear to almost everyone else.

 

His right arm had healed enough that he didn’t need a cast, and the neck brace had vanished as well. His left leg was still heavily bandaged, but he was able to put weight on it, unlike the right leg, which was still kept immobile by a cast. He wore what was almost like a ballistic vest on his chest as an added layer of protection, but everything had healed pretty well. He wasn’t doing any physical activity yet, but Jason had seen him with Tony, discussing strategies and ideas for the Fourth Cohort.

 

He was also spending a fair chunk of his time with Lupa, who would come to the city for a few hours each day and take Percy aside. For a few days, he hadn’t known what for, until the Wolf-Goddess summoned him to her estate, where Percy was waiting with her.

 

“It seems I have been inconsiderate,” Lupa was in her human form, and the glare she shot Percy was nothing short of withering. Still, he didn’t seem cowed, and instead stared right back at her, “I have been teaching Perseus about civil leadership, and he pointed out to me that you would benefit from these lessons as well, seeing as you are not only a Centurion, but a Senator as well.”

 

“I—thank you, Lady Lupa,” Jason said with a bow, “but what about—”

 

“No,” she cut him off, “I have already allowed myself to be swayed on this matter once, and only because Perseus was dramatically insistent. I will change my mind twice.”

 

“I wasn’t _dramatically_ insistent,” Percy defended, “passionate, maybe.”

 

“Watch yourself, pup,” Lupa warned him, though she sounded amused more than frustrated, “I am finding myself short of patience with you.”

 

“And yet Jason is here,” Percy countered, “so I must’ve done _something_ right.”

 

“So it would seem,” Lua hummed in agreement, before turning back to Jason. “So, along with Perseus, you will learn the art of ruling with me. I will teach you two everything you will need to know about ruling any city, state, or nation. We’ll start with the basics and work our way up, yes?”

 

“By your will, Lady Lupa,” Percy grinned, trying to bow and almost bowling over in the process. Jason reached out and kept him steady. Lupa let out a low breath, and the change between mentor and mother happened before his eyes.

 

“Don’t do that,” she told him, sweeping forward to look him over, turning his head in her hands, “you are healing, but not healed. There is still the risk of hurting yourself, Percy, and that _cannot_ —”

 

“I know, I know,” he said, trying to bat her hands away, “I made a mistake. It won’t happen again. Why don’t we head inside so we can start our lessons?”

 

He was uncomfortable, Jason realised. Percy wasn’t used to being coddled so much, especially not by Lupa. From some of their conversations, Jason knew that Lupa could and had taken on a motherlike role in his life, but never to this extent, clearly. Something had happened since Percy was injured that put her on edge. As he followed the duo inside, he wondered what could provoke a reaction like this from _Lupa_ of all deities but pushed the thoughts aside once the learning began. He could think about it later.

 

**XXX**

Four hours later, Jason was walking with Percy to the bath-house. He had insisted that he didn’t need an ‘escort’ but Lupa had shot Jason a look that told him that if he _didn’t_ go, he’d be the one in a body cast. Percy had grumbled half the way before conceding defeat and spending the time discussing different things with Jason. They talked about the Football, the weather, the political standings in the U.S., and a whole array of topics. He tried to shake Jason off one last time when they arrived at the bath-house, and that was when Jason knew that Percy was embarrassed of something. He told him as much.

 

“It’s…” Percy trailed off as they went inside. There was a room that was entirely theirs, a gift from the owner of the bath-house to Percy for some favour or the other, and once they were in it, he continued. “My body’s scarred now more than ever,” he said, taking his shirt off. Jason’s heart stopped beating for a moment. “Eighty-three percent of back is going to be scar tissue. Forty-six percent of my torso, and my calves suffered acid burns. Thankfully, my face was saved from all this damage, otherwise the ladies wouldn’t be into me as much, eh?”

 

“That’s another conversation we need to have, actually,” Jason pointed out, and Percy sighed again.

 

“I know,” he groaned, settling into the water. It started out as a noise of annoyance but as he soaked in the hot water it turned into contentment, “let me have a moment of peace first though. Please?”

 

“You have sixty seconds,” Jason said, settling into the water across from him. He tried to imagine what it must’ve been like before the Romans had bath-houses, and he decided that he didn’t like the idea. A bath-house was a sign of civilisation. Granted, these weren’t like the _thermae_ of the Empire, instead more like indoor spas. Still, they were a gift from the gods.

 

He waited a full minute and then another twenty seconds before speaking up again.

 

“Reyna and Leila,” he said, and the whine that Percy emitted told him everything he needed to know. He _wasn’t_ an idiot, he was ignoring it on purpose. “Things are getting tense, bro. Those two look about ready to draw blades over you.”

 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Percy asked, eyes directed at the ceiling, “did I offend Venus in a past life, or something?”

 

“Percy, bro, I don’t know how else to tell you this, but you’re pretty good looking,” Jason laughed. He wished he was joking too, but between the two of them, Percy had really changed as he grew. He had been shorter as a kid, but over the past three years he had grown nearly a foot and a half, standing at nearly six-foot-four, clearing Jason by two inches. His cheekbones had sharpened out, and his eyes were a bright, blazing green. Add in his hair, which while it didn’t seem to obey the laws of physics, always managed to look good. He wasn’t surprised that Percy was having girl troubles. He was thankful that _he_ himself wasn’t.

 

“Ah, you’re not too shabby either man,” Percy said, “though if we’re being honest, you do have a kind of Aryan look going. You’re not going to start goose-stepping around, are you?”

 

Percy yelped at the small shock of electricity that Jason sent coursing through the water, but it was more out of surprise than pain. He had done this to his cousin a dozen times before and would probably do it hundreds more.

 

“Very funny,” Jason rolled his eyes, “what do you plan to do?”

 

“About the girls?”

 

“No, about the weather,” Jason deadpanned, “yes, the girls!”

 

“I honestly don’t know,” Percy sighed, “Leila’s my friend… more of a sister, really, and I love her, just-just not like _that_ , you know?”

 

“Nice omission of Reyna,” Jason noted, “which I’m guessing means the opposite is true in her regard?”

 

“Well, I mean I really like her,” Percy admitted, “like, _really_ like her. It’s something I’ve struggled with for a while, honestly. She just… she makes me all warm and bubbly and stuff. Feelings that I shouldn’t have, you know? I feel comfortable around in her in a way I don’t around many people, but when she’s there, I dunno I just feel like I’m _more_.”

 

Jason blinked as he took this all in. He knew that Percy and Reyna liked each other—gods, anyone with eyes could see that, but he hadn’t realised just _how_ much his cousin liked her. This wasn’t just a crush, this was bordering on something more than that. Something bigger.

 

“I’m not saying that life is duller or anything when she isn’t there,” Percy continued, not noticing Jason’s internalisation of everything he was being told, “but there’s just something about her that, I don’t know, makes me want to be more? I feel unmanned when she’s around, like I should be doing something better for her. I’ve been able to push it aside before, obviously, during wargames and the like, but recently? Recently I’ve been wanting to do things like hold her hand, and-and kiss her and its so frustrating because I don’t think clearly when she’s around and that’s dangerous for me.”

 

“Percy, there’s nothing wrong with you liking Reyna,” Jason said, “what you’re experiencing isn’t unusual. What you _feel_ isn’t wrong, or bad. It’s not _dangerous_ for you to care for her, and anyone who says otherwise is lying. Love makes us strong, Percy, you know that. I think that you should talk with her, though. I think she likes you too, but maybe what you want and what she wants are two different things.”

 

“Or,” Percy said slowly, “I could just _not_ do that.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

“Because,” Jason drawled, mimicking Percy a moment earlier, “that would be not only stupid, but _cowardly_ , and you’re no coward. You’re no Octavian.”

 

They both snorted at that, but Jason could see the wheels turning in Percy’s head. He was processing not only what he had just told him, but what he was feeling. It was always interesting, watching Percy’s mind at work. He had several signs that indicated what he was feeling. The first was his clenched jaw. Whatever he was thinking about upset him, but when it loosened a moment later, his tongue clicking in his mouth, Jason knew that he had dismissed whatever the thought had been. The last ‘tick’ was when he slid under the water. Percy always did his clearest thinking underwater, and this would be no exception.

 

Jason doubted Percy even realised what he was doing, but less than five minutes later, he emerged back from the bottom of the pool, his face neutral but his eyes gleaming with mirth.

 

“I know what I’m going to do,” he said, “but before I do, it’s only fair that I return the favour. Let’s talk about _you_.”

 

“What about me?” Jason asked, mentally cursing the fact that his voice had broken, “there’s nothing to talk about.”

 

“Nuh uh, buddy,” Percy grinned, “you don’t get to get out of this that easily. We talked about my feelings. Let’s talk about yours.”

 

“Percy, I can honestly say, one hundred percent, that I don’t have any feelings for anyone,” Jason said, but Percy just crossed his arms, “I swear, I don’t! I’ve got a cohort to command, I don’t have time for crushes or feelings!”

 

“Oh that’s crap and we both know it,” Percy said, “look, I’ve noticed that you don’t spend a lot of time with other people—that’s fine, I’d be a major hypocrite if I said otherwise, but you can’t tell me that _no one_ has drawn your eye? Not a demigod? A legacy? Or dryad, maybe?”

 

“Percy, I swear on the Black Stone, it hasn’t crossed my mind,” Jason replied, and Percy stiffened at the oath, “really, it hasn’t. First, I was concerned about running my cohort, and then I was too busy worrying about you. I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”

 

“Gods, Jason,” Percy said, “you poor repressed centurion. If even the ambitious Son of Neptune can develop feelings, then surely the Mighty Son of Jupiter must feel _something_ for someone?”

 

“I feel like punching you in the face right now, does that count?”

 

“I’m just saying,” Percy snickered, putting a hand up in defence, “you’d think you were paying more attention to the… opposite gender. Didn’t you know it’s your destiny to start a mighty dynasty that’ll lead New Rome for the centuries to come?”

 

“If anyone’s going to start a ruling dynasty, Percy,” Jason said, “it’s going to be you.”

 

The part of that statement that scared Jason was that he thought it might be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturnalia is one of the most important Roman feasts, lasting from the 17th to the 23rd of December, celebrating, rather ironically, Saturn, the Roman version of Kronos.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**_Percy_ **

“You know that’ll ruin the whetstone, right?” Reyna told him as she approached, sitting next to him on the steps of Temple Hill. He had been drawing the stone across the blade of _Crocea_ _Mors_ , simply to pass the time at first, but he had found the repetitive movement and the gentle _swishing_ sound to be calming.

 

“I know,” he replied softly as she sat down next to him. He hadn’t talked with her about… well, about them, even though he had told Jason he would. Every so often, his cousin would shoot him a look, and Percy would shake his head in response. They both knew he was stalling, but Percy had wanted to be able to move normally again before they had the discussion they were about to have. It was more for his confidence than anything else, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that.

 

“You’re nervous,” she noticed, and Percy simply nodded in reply. “You don’t get nervous often. Want to tell me what’s up?”

 

“Yeah, but not here,” he replied, before standing up, _Crocea Mors_ retracting into ring form. He held his hand out for Reyna, and she blinked before hesitatingly taking it. He led her to the river before pausing. “Do you trust me?”

 

Reyna seemed taken aback by the question, but her response was without hesitation.

 

“Of course,” she replied, and he started wading into the river, leading her with him. Her steps were sluggish compared to him, but when she realised the water wasn’t affecting her—wasn’t _touching_ her, she gained some confidence. Within a minute, they were standing on the bed of the river, and Percy had formed a bubble of air around them. He let her hand go and sat down, making the ground dry before patting it.

 

Once more, hesitatingly, she did as he did, and the look of surprise on her face was actually pretty funny, in Percy’s mind. But still, he couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful Reyna was. Underwater, the light-rays seemed to enhance her looks, framing her face like an angel, making her dark-hair glossier than usual.

 

“Worried Octavian was going to try and eavesdrop?” She asked with a quirked brow.

 

“Maybe,” he replied with a smirk, “or maybe I just wanted for the conversation to be private—mostly.”

 

“Mostly?” This time the look was that of confusion.

 

“Well, the Little Tiber is probably listening in,” he said, “unless she really values my privacy, in which case she might not be.”

 

“She?”

 

“Oh yeah, it turns out the Little Tiber is a female water spirit,” Percy rambled, “I met her a few days ago, completely by accident. Normally they don’t reveal themselves, but I spend so much time under water that she wanted to introduce herself to me. It was a great conversation, really, because I got to meet a new person, ya know, and she’s actually really nice and didn’t mind me calling her ‘Lil’ T’ while I was fighting the Trojan Sea Monster and—”

 

“Do you consider yourself a person, Percy?” Reyna cut him off. He started at the words. What did that even _mean_?  


“What?”

 

“A person,” she repeated, “do you consider yourself to be a person?”

 

“I- of course I do!” He exclaimed, “what kind of a question is that?”

 

“I overheard Marcus talking with Cato and Vitellius,” she revealed, “and they were talking about you. Only, they didn’t refer to you by your name. They called you ‘ _telum_ ’.”

 

_Weapon._ That hurt. Marcus was the _Lar_ for the Second Cohort, Cato was of the Third, and Vitellius was from Jason’s cohort, the Fifth.

 

“I wasn’t sure that they were talking about you at first, until Gaius scolded them for talking about the ‘son of Neptune’ in such a disrespectful manner,” Reyna continued, “which made me think—if they see you as a weapon, how do _you_ see yourself?”

 

Percy was silent as he took that news in, because frankly, he agreed with the _lares_ in that regard. It must’ve read across his face, because Reyna reached out and grabbed his hand before squeezing it. Hard.

 

“You are _not_ a weapon, Percy,” she told him sternly, “you _are_ a person. You don’t _exist_ solely to serve Rome. That is not why you are here.”

 

“Isn’t it?” He countered, “I was raised by Lupa, Reyna, and we both know what that did to me! I can’t help it. Everything I am, she made me. If that means I would rather die than let New Rome be threatened, to let _you_ be threatened, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make! I don’t care about much in the world, but everything, _everyone_ that I do care about is here! I can serve the legion, and that’s it. Beyond that, I’m not worth much. I’d never be elected as a senator, and I’m definitely going to be raised as a Praetor while Jason is here. I’ll do my service, and then what? I retire quietly? Go to college? You know that I’d be plagued with whispers of insurrection and ambition. Even making Centurion would put a target on my back.”

 

“That doesn’t make you less of a person!” Reyna shot back, “it’s a challenge that needs to be overcome, but it doesn’t _dehumanise_ you, Percy. It doesn’t make you a _threat_.”

 

“The Praetors would disagree,” he snapped, realising his mistake instantly. Reyna stiffened and stared at him with intensity he hadn’t seen before.

 

“What,” she said slowly, “does that mean.”

 

Out of his three friends, Reyna admired the Praetors the most, and they liked her easily as much as they liked Jason. They accommodated her in ways that no legionary would usually get, and it had been whispered that they were grooming her to succeed one of them when the time came. Percy didn’t doubt it. Reyna squeezed his hand again, her nails biting into the skin.

 

“Explain,” she demanded.

 

Percy sighed in defeat.

 

“They sent me alone,” he told her, “they sent me alone against the Trojan Sea Monster, remember?”

 

She nodded, so he continued.

 

“They didn’t care if I lived or died,” Reyna didn’t so much as blink, but he could see the fury in her eyes. He just didn’t know if it was directed at him or not. “Lupa suggested I be sent after the monster, but they saw an opportunity. The Sea is my father’s domain, and it’s where I’m strongest, but I’m still mortal, and I can still be killed, even underwater. We knew whatever was hunting he seas was a dangerous beast. We also knew that I was the only who could hunt it in its natural environment. I didn’t see it at the time, and even Lupa didn’t, but Maria and Julia? They saw an opening.”

 

“If I killed the monster, and lived, then it was another successful quest,” he continued, “if I killed it and died, then it was a tragic loss, and no one would any the wiser. I would have just… never come back, I guess. If it killed me before I killed it? Then I was just another failure. More proof that Neptune’s kids aren’t to be trusted.”

 

“You can’t really believe that,” Reyna said after a moment of silence.

 

“It’s not speculation,” he said quietly, “Dustin confronted the Praetors. And Lupa, for that matter. They didn’t deny it. Why do you think that Tony’s been giving them the third degree lately?”

 

“So they didn’t deny it, that doesn’t make it true!” she argued, “it’s absurd.”

 

“They didn’t confirm it to Dustin,” Percy corrected, “but when an angry son of Neptune shows up, it’s in your best interest not to lie. They didn’t lie to me, Reyna. They admitted it. They’ve seen how powerful I’ve become. They’ve seen me lead troops as well, and it scared them. They saw the possibility that it might be _me_ leading the legion, so they reacted.”  


“That’s-that’s…” Reyna was trying to think of _something_ to say that defended the Praetors, but even she was coming up short.

 

“It was smart,” Percy supplied, and her head snapped towards him, eyes flaring with anger. “No, really, it was. I don’t blame them for making the decision. I can’t say _I’d_ have made it, but I can see where they came from. I disturb the status quo. I put the future at risk. Politically, it was a gamble they could afford to make. Strategically, what would they lose?”

 

“Does Jason know?” Reyna finally asked. Percy choked on the air.

 

“Gods, no!” he said once he regained his breath, “the last thing the legion needs is _Jason_ going off on the Praetors! I haven’t told anyone but you. Tony told me not to tell _anyone_ , but I’m not going to lie. Not to you.”

 

“Percy, they tried to have you killed!” Reyna exploded, “and you don’t even care!”

 

“Don’t mistake my understanding for approval, Reyna,” he said sharply, “but I’m not going to do anything about it. The Praetors have lost the Fourth, and anyone can see it. The last thing they need is to lose the other cohorts.”

 

“Do you expect me to keep quiet about this, Percy?” Reyna asked him, “do you really expect me not to tell my centurion? Not to tell Jason or Leila, or Michael? Not to tell Hank, and Gwen, and the others?”

 

“That’s exactly what I expect of you, actually,” he said.

 

“So what, is that why I’m really here?” She asked, motioning to the water around them, “so you can force me to swear an oath on the Black Stone?”

 

“I’m not going to make you swear any oath,” he told her patiently, “I’m just hoping that you respect me enough as a friend to honour my wish for this to remain private.”

 

“But they—”

 

“Did something I will never forgive them for,” he nodded, “something that if it came out would cause more problems than it would solve. The last thing the Legion needs, especially now, is internal strife.”

 

“‘especially now,’” Reyna echoed, “what do you know?”

 

“There’s been… stirrings, so to speak,” he said, “the Pegasi have noticed increased monster activity across the country. They’re unifying, forming warbands. To put it as a particularly mouthy Pegasus told me, ‘they’re getting ready for the biggest scrap since the second world war.’”

 

“War’s coming,” Reyna said, and Percy nodded, “but who could unite _monsters_?”

 

“Divine beings,” he said, “probably the Titans, based on what I’m being told.”

 

“By the Pegasi?” She was reasonably doubting his word. That was fair.

 

“Among others,” he nodded, “the Faun’s have noticed it as well, and the water spirits all talk to each other. The Little Tiber keeps me informed of what’s going on across the water-sheds of North America. From the Rio Grande to the Great Lakes, monster warbands are forming. It’s a major issue. The Praetors are aware. They’re trying to figure out what to do.”

 

“You already have a plan, don’t you?” She asked him.

 

“Tony and I have been working on it for a few weeks,” he nodded, “but I can’t tell you.”

 

“Because you think I’d go to the Praetors?” The hurt that flashed across Reyna’s face almost made him waver. Almost.

 

“Because you’d be obligated to if I told you,” he told her, “and I don’t want you to have to choose between our friendship and the legion.”

 

_Because I already know which one you’d choose_ went unsaid, and they both knew it.

 

“Why did you want to see me originally, Percy?” She asked him, and he took a shuddered breath as he composed himself.

 

“Because I really like you, Reyna,” he said, “and I didn’t think I would be able to admit for the longest time. I always have, I think, since the first day. You’re just… I dunno, so _much_. You get me in a way that not a lot of people do. Jason does, but that’s because we’re in the same boat. Leila tries, gods bless her, but she can’t understand. No demigod has an easy life, but she’s gotten as close to a _normal_ one as possible. I guess you just know what it’s like to lose as much as I do.”

 

He had been staring at the floor the entire time, and when he looked up, Reyna was studying him.

 

“I’m sorry, that’s probably not what you wanted to hear. I get that, but I think I needed to say it to you at least once otherwise I would—”

 

He didn’t get the chance to finish. Reyna reached across and gently grabbed his face, before pulling him in for a kiss. Percy was surprised, but he deepened it. That was when he lost concentration, and the air bubble around them collapsed, water rushing down onto them. Way to ruin the mood, Percy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please comment on what you think! We have the official start of Preyna in this story, but it'll really be second-fiddle to the rest of the story.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cohort vanishes, and Percy meets someone that he didn't expect.

**_Jason_ **

 

“Where in the name of the Gods is the Fourth?” Maria asked the other centurions. Jason in particular was a focus of her ire, and she rounded on him, “did Jackson tell you where they were going?”

 

“No ma’am,” he replied, “I haven’t talked to him in a few days. He’s been busy with some wargame or the other. At least that’s what he told me.”

 

“Legionary Reyna might know,” Vanessa Grey offered, “she’s spent a fair bit of time with Percy these past two months.”

 

“Find her,” Julia ordered before turning back to the rest of them, “an entire cohort doesn’t just vanish overnight. Reach out to the families of those in the Fourth, and someone find me Gaius. If he doesn’t know where his cohort went, then we’re _really_ in trouble. Michaela, do _you_ know where the Fourth is?”

 

Jason didn’t know why Michaela would know if he didn’t, but the _Primus_ _Pilus_ seemed concerned.

 

“I don’t,” she said, “Tony and I haven’t… really been on talking terms recently.”

 

“Is it causing problems?” Julia asked, and while Vanessa and Daniel seemed to know what was going on, Jason had _no_ idea what they were talking about.

 

“No, no it’s a private issue, ma’am,” Michaela quickly said, “and it’s strictly between us, the cohorts don’t know.”

 

Oh. _Oh_. They were… okay, that made sense. Jason was quickly piecing together what was going on, but he remained silent.

 

“Right, Michaela, go find out what you can from the families. Daniel, go get Gaius from the Senate House,” Julia ordered, “Vanessa, go find Reyna and bring her here. Jason, stay a moment.”

 

The others rose and saluted the Praetors before leaving. Jason stayed seated in his chair.

 

“Are you _sure_ you don’t know where Percy is?” Julia asked him, and he withheld a groan.

 

“No ma’am,” he repeated, “like I said, he told me he was preparing the Fourth for an exercise, so I haven’t seen him much.”

 

“War-game,” Maria suddenly said, “you said ‘war-game’ the first time, but exercise now. Which one is it?”

 

“Uh, aren’t they the same thing?” He asked with a frown. Julia let out a deep sigh.

 

“Gods damn it, Tony,” she muttered under her breath. It was at that moment that Daniel Tan came bursting back in, the Fourth’s _Lar_ , Gaius, on his heels. Vanessa returned with Reyna moments later.

 

“You’re not going to believe this,” Daniel said.

 

“Try me,” Julia said in defeat.

 

“Tell them,” Daniel ordered Gaius, who crossed his arms.

 

“Watch your tone, boy, I remember when you were a _probatio_ in the Third!”

 

“Yes, well I’m it’s Centurion now, which I believe is a rank you never achieved, so do what I damn well say!” Daniel snapped.

 

“The Fourth is going on an operational tour,” Gaius told them, “from what I was told, there’s been an increase in monster activity around California, and Centurion Giles feels the threat is adequate enough to warrant a response.”

 

“What’s he thinking?” Vanessa asked in horror, “the entire cohort?”

 

“Broken up into kill teams, of course,” Gaius continued, “two squads are being sent to a hotspot to deal with a warband. The idea is to eliminate as many threats as possible in a short period of time.”

 

“How long do they plan to be gone?” Jason asked.

 

“A few weeks, at most,” Gaius shrugged, “it’s a military campaign. What they planned and what _actually_ happens are two very different things.”

 

“They’re not allowed to deploy without your permission,” Vanessa said, “I’m not the only one to notice the way Tony’s been acting with you two, and the way you’ve been tip-toeing around the Fourth. You can’t seriously let this stand.”

 

“Unless, of course, you’ve been holding back information from the others,” Gaius noted slyly, “say, perhaps, the knowledge of these warbands that have been forming for several months.”

 

“ _Tace_!” Maria snapped, but the damage was done. Michaela had just made it back, presumably after delegating, and she jumped on the morsel that Gaius had just offered.

 

“How long?” She demanded, “if the enemy is building up and you’ve _known_.”

 

“We were deliberating,” Julia, ever the level-headed Praetor, stepped in, “we couldn’t make a decision to deploy any assets without considering the pros and cons of such an action.”

 

“Pro; we eliminate a threat before it fully forms,” Jason said, stepping forward, “con; the enemy form a large army and siege Camp Jupiter. There, the pros and cons were weighed. The legion doesn’t need deploy en masse to deal with this threat. The Fourth has a solid strategy. Break up into small units, deal with multiple threats at once.”

 

“It’s more complicated than that, Jason,” Maria tried, “there are risks to deploying any forces at all!”

 

“No, there isn’t,” he replied, “I’ve studied the defences of New Rome. We could hold the entrances with a single cohort, even the Fifth. As long as we rotated what units were in and out of the city, we could keep a steady presence outside the city. Unless, of course, there are warbands large enough to attack New Rome itself?”

 

“No, not yet,” Julia admitted, and Jason quickly caught what she had thought but wouldn’t say,

 

“But it wouldn’t be long before there is,” he guessed, “which is why you’re not going to punish the Fourth or Tony—they’ve done you a favour by striking pre-emptively. They’re breaking up forces before they can link up, and that gives you breathing room.”

 

Michaela quickly came to the same realisation as well.

 

“Only you panicked when the Fourth wasn’t present for muster this morning,” she continued on where Jason left off, “and you needed to find out where they were. You just didn’t want _us_ to know why they did what they did. Clever, because if we hadn’t, you could’ve cited operational security, or something of the like, and we would’ve let it rest.”

 

“Respectfully, Praetors, what you’ve done is a major breach of our trust,” Jason said, “I understand that we’re only here to distribute your orders, but keeping something like this from us? This is what causes discord among the legion.”

 

“Oh, my dear son of Jupiter,” Gaius said, slinking around beside him, “if you think _this_ is bad, wait until you hear what the Praetors had in mind when they sent Perseus after the Trojan Sea Monster.”

 

_**Percy** _

The Fourth had taken over an old warehouse in the outskirts of Sacramento, and it was from there that they executed their operation. The majority of the warbands were forming in the east and heading west, so they had decided to cut them off before they could reach Orthys and unify. That would be an army that was far too large for them to deal with right outside their home. In the past week, each kill team had brought back a trophy from each warband, and there was now an entire section dedicated to the loot they gained.

 

A few legionaries had been able to recover Imperial Gold weapons as well, which would go towards regaining some goodwill with the Praetors, at the very least. The Fourth had been split into three kill-teams of twenty, with Tony, Leila, and Percy in command of each one. Percy’s had taken out the most groups by far, but Tony was close behind him. Leila’s strikes were more planned than theirs, but she had taken out larger groups with her smaller force than anyone else. Given time, Percy believed she would develop the perfect strategy for this form of warfare. She just had a talent for it.

 

At the moment, he and his kill-team were somewhere in the Fremont Weir State Wildlife Area, hunting down a particularly bothersome band of monsters. They had evaded his unit twice already, but he had finally managed to manoeuvre them into a kill-box, and his legionaries had launched the first volley of _pila_. There was a certain joy that came from watching swathes of monsters disintegrate, and watching it happen _twice_ wasn’t something Percy had thought he’d enjoy.

 

“ _Gladium Stringe_!” He ordered. The response was the rasp of swords being drawn from their sheaths. “ _Oppugnare_!”

 

He led the charge personally, as he always did. The sound of men crashing against monsters was so close to that of the war games, but there were a few distinct differences. Monster flesh was harder than human flesh, so it was more like wood striking stone. Another key difference was that the cries coming from both sides were genuine, and not in frustration.

 

He gutted a dracaena before pivoting on his heel and driving his sword into the throat of a ghoul that was about to stab his second, a son of Bellona named Aidan, in the side. He got a simple nod of thanks before they both went back to the fight. This warband was fairly numerous, maybe five or six dozen strong, but they weren’t made of great fighters. Small groups that had met up as they made their way west, probably. The large cyclops keeping two legionaries at bay with his spear was probably the leader.

 

Percy snatched a _pilum_ from the ground and launched it at the Cyclops, drawing some of the moisture in the air around him to make the throw just a little stronger. Maybe a little _too_ strong, because the _pilum_ went straight through the cyclops and impaled a hell-hound, before finally getting stuck in a tree. The death of their leader broke what little cohesion the warband had, and they fell to his kill-team even quicker than before.

 

“Thanks for the save back there,” Aidan said once the rest of the monsters were dead.

 

“You’d have done the same for me,” Percy replied simply, and it was true. The Fourth was tighter than they had ever been before. Tony had that effect on people.

 

“You’re a good commander, Perce,” Aidan told him, “you’ll make a fantastic centurion, I have no doubt about that.”

 

“Thanks man,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder, “c’mon, let’s get the rest squared away before we head back to the warehouse,” he turned to the group, “Anyone got a good trophy?”

 

A legionary, a daughter of Venus named Kate held up the horn from a bull they had killed at the beginning. Percy could admit he was a little worried that it was just a regular bull that had wandered into the warband, but it had exploded into a mass of dust after the first volley struck, which had alleviated some of his concern.

 

“Perfect,” he told her, before sending everyone back to the small convoy of minibuses they had rented. There were twenty of them, so they had gotten two per kill team. It was at times like this that Percy was grateful for the magic the gods had gifted them with. Mist manipulation was truly incredible.

 

Half an hour later, they were pulling into the warehouse, after burning nearly a hundred-twenty dollars at a drive through, but thoroughly pleased with themselves. They unloaded the minibuses, and while the others added their trophy to the collection and regaled the others with the story of the battle, Percy met with Tony and Leila.

 

“That’s Fremont Weir cleared of monsters, from what I understand,” he informed them, “four warbands in one reserve, for the gods sake. It seems excessive, even for monsters.”

 

“Well, they don’t think as strategically as you,” Tony shrugged in response. “They’re monsters, what did you expect?”

 

“Not much, admittedly,” he said, “but it was fun.”

 

“Only you, Percy,” Leila smiled. He returned it—but not for long. There was the sound of clattering, and someone called out ‘ _Inside the perimeter!_ ’

 

Percy clenched his fist and _Crocea Mors_ sprung into existence. He snatched his helmet from where he had laid it to rest, but didn’t bother going for his shield. It wouldn’t be much use in the cluttered warehouse. He reached the front, where Aidan had set up a small shield wall.

 

“What’s going on?” He demanded as Tony and Leila reached them.

 

“Squadron of women, inside the permitter,” he said, pointing to the entrance, where, as promised, was perhaps twelve girls, of varying ages, standing loosely. They seemed to be waiting. Percy exchanged looks with Tony, and the centurion sighed.

 

“Make a gap,” he ordered, before stepping through. “Percy, if I die, don’t let me become a _Lar_.”

 

“No promises, boss.”

 

The son of Mercury made his way to the women, and had a quiet exchange with them, before visibly recoiling in surprise.

 

“Percy, come here!” He barked.

 

“Oh shit,” someone muttered, but Percy didn’t reprimand them for it. The same thought had gone through his mind.

 

“Gap,” he said, walking to his centurion. “Sir?”

 

“This is the son of Neptune?” The oldest woman of the group said in surprise, but another one, only a few years older than Percy, maybe nineteen or twenty, raised her hand to cut her off. She was oddly familiar, but Percy couldn’t place why. “Lose the sword, you don’t need it.”

 

Percy looked at Tony, who nodded slowly at him. _Crocea Mors_ returned to ring form, and the woman made an intrigued sound.

 

“How does that work?” She asked, “telepathy of some sort?”

 

“I guess?” He replied, “I’ve never thought about it, to be honest, but I just think about needing it, and it’s there, and when I need it gone, I think about that.”

 

“Does it stay in sword from even when you’re not touching it?”

 

“Yeah, if I need it to,” he said, “do I know you from somewhere? I swear you look familiar…”

 

“It’s a familial resemblance,” she said, “from what I understand, you know my sister very well.”

 

“I do?” He blinked in surprise, studying her closer.

 

“You do,” she said, and it was only when she gave him a predatory grin that he understood why, “my name is Hylla. I’m Reyna’s older sister. She’s told me a lot about you, _Perseus_.”


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy spars with the Amazons, while Leila and Tony have a heart-to-heart.

**_Leila_ **

She didn’t know why the Amazonian Queen had sought out Percy, but she didn’t like it. She had told him as much, but he had just laughed and assured her that everything was okay. What she especially didn’t like was that the Amazonian Queen was Reyna’s sister. She also didn’t like that she kept insinuating to the ‘close’ relationship that Percy had with Reyna. They were friends, and that was it. She knew that was it. Nothing had changed. She would have known if that were the case.

 

Percy, on the other hand, dazzled the Amazonians. Several had challenged him to duels, and he had taken them all on, one after the other, besting them as she knew he would. But he never boasted. He always praised his opponent and told them that they had offered him a good fight. Whether that was _true_ or not, Leila didn’t know. Percy had told her there weren’t many legionaries who could offer him a proper challenge now, so she wasn’t sure he was being entirely honest with them.

 

“Why did they come here?” She asked Tony, frustration creeping into her voice.

 

“Because of Percy,” he answered simply, “it’s not entirely unsurprising, if we’re being honest. Children of the Big Three are rare, and sons of Neptune are even rarer. The last one died in the forties, during the Second World War. Ask Percy about it sometime, he knows the story.”

 

“Would they have come if it were Jason?” She asked. Tony nodded in reply.

 

“And they would’ve come if it were, somehow, a son of Pluto,” he told her, “now relax, you’re oozing jealousy.”

 

“I’m not—” she realised she was close to yelling, so she lowered her voice, “I’m not _jealous_.”

 

“Leila,” Tony sighed, “Percy… Percy loves you, a lot, okay?”

 

Leila’s heart fluttered at that, but Tony’s next words brutally cut that off.

 

“But he loves you like a sister, okay?” he said, “he sees you as family, and nothing more. I’ve seen it. The Praetors see it. Jason sees it. I know you care for him. I know that you like him, but you need to be prepared for the fact that he won’t feel the same way about you.”

 

“Because of Reyna,” she spat, and Tony put his hands up.

 

“I don’t know,” he said, “maybe that’s the case, maybe not. Regardless, Percy needs you as a friend, not as a… as a girlfriend. Do you understand? There are factors at play that you don’t know about. That you’ll probably never know about. But he’ll need support, _especially_ from the Fourth. You need to provide it, understood?”

 

“Yes sir,” she said, not understanding at all. Percy was busy duelling another Amazon, and this one seemed to be giving him much more of a challenge than the others. Or he was holding back, she couldn’t tell.

 

He ducked under her blade, bringing his own up, only for it to be batted aside by her shield. He leapt backwards to avoid a kick, before rolling forwards and popping up inside her guard, snaking a leg behind hers and yanking it back, taking her down. It was the same thing he had done to the huntress, nearly a year prior. This time, however it worked, and the Amazon dropped. Percy rested the tip of his blade at her throat, and she yielded. His fifth victory. She wasn’t surprised in the least.

**_Percy_ **

The Amazons were far better sparring partners than the majority of the legion. They were used to fighting individually as well as in formation, so they were better duellists than most legionaries would ever hope to be. He knew why this was happening, too. Reyna hadn’t told him that she kept in touch with her sister, but Hylla had indicated that they had talked about a lot of things. Including him. Frequently.

 

If this was some sort of Amazonian courting ritual, it was interesting. If it was an older sister looking out for her younger sister, then it was amusing. If it was both, then Percy knew that he had picked a winner.

 

By the end of the day, he had fought each Amazon twice, except for Hylla. She had just watched the entire time, so he knew that it was leading up to a match between the two of them. She’d have the double advantage of being fresh _and_ having studied him. He’d need to change things up, if they fought. He didn’t doubt that Hylla was easily his match. There was even a fair chance she could be better than him. Children of Bellona were warriors through and through, but Reyna, and by extension Hylla, had a gift that not many received when it came to martial ability. Percy wasn’t sure if it was simply part of them, or if it was a blessing from their mother, but it would prove to be a challenge to overcome her.

 

“My turn,” Hylla finally said, after Percy had gotten a drink of water and run a towel across his face. She at least had the decency to let him recover, somewhat. Percy nodded, rolling his shoulder in preparation for the fight to come. Hylla, likewise, had rolled her neck, before being handed a spear by another Amazon, the older woman who had seemed surprised by the fact that he was the son of Neptune. What was surprising about him, he didn’t know.

 

She didn’t have a shield, but that didn’t boost Percy’s confidence. A spear-user who could devoted both hands to the weapon was not an idle threat, and Hylla clearly knew her way around the weapon. She gave it an exploratory spin before settling into a fighting stance. He heard Leila scoff behind him but shoved the rebuke he wanted to give aside. He could talk with her later.

 

He had the shorter weapon, which meant that he would be at her mercy until he could figure out a way to get inside her defence.

 

Hylla struck first, her spear sweeping out towards him, the counter-balance almost slicing his throat open if he hadn’t leaned back just far enough for it to miss. Still, the strike was too close for his comfort, and Percy was forced to duck under the next strike, before blocking the third one with both his vambraces, the wooden haft shuddering with the force of the strike, and Percy’s own arms rattling as well. There would be bruises, he had no doubt of that. This was good. This made him better.

 

He tried to force a gap while he was inside Hylla’s guard, but she reacted with lightning reflexes, driving the heel of her boot into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards. He heard a chorus of ‘oohs’ from the watching legionaries but didn’t have time to think about it before he was spinning around a jab from the spear. Percy yanked the spear by the haft, throwing Hylla off balance and bringing her towards him, but she recovered in a flash and went with the movement instead of fighting it, releasing the spear and diving forward into a roll. She came up five paces closer and grabbed back onto the weapon again before twisting it. He had no choice but to release the weapon, and that was when she brought it back. The haft slammed into his ribs, and while his armour took most of the blow, it still stung slightly. He hissed, before intercepting the spear-head with the blade of _Crocea Mors_ , batting it aside as he closed in on Hylla. She tried to bring the weapon around again but was a fraction too slow.

 

Percy had gotten inside her guard. So she did something he hadn’t expected. She dropped the spear, and a sword was thrown at her. He grinned. Spear on sword had been fun, but a duel? No mortal had beaten him in a duel for years. This was _his_ playground now.

 

Percy normally fought with control and restraint. Each blow was designed to accomplish something, whether it was to distract or destroy. Not in this case. Hylla thought she had his style down, but the first lesson that Lupa had drilled into him, and that Salacia had done her best to reinforce, was that there were no rules telling him to fight a certain way. What wins the fight wins the fight, everything else is subjective. So he did something he hadn’t done since he last fought Triton, nearly six months prior now. He stopped thinking.

 

There was no precision, no coordination to his strikes. He was, essentially, going berserk. He attacked again, and again, and again, and Hylla found herself on the backfoot, the onslaught catching her by surprise. She was struggling to keep up with his pace, but only because she hadn’t been expecting it. The crowd was silent now, Romans and Amazons alike, and Percy knew that they were trying to process what they were watching.

 

He brought his sword down once, twice, and on the third time, Hylla’s blade flew out of her hand, clattering on the floor. Almost like a switch had been flicked, Percy was back in control. He rested the tip of _Crocea Mors_ on her shoulder. Normally, he’d have done it at throat-point, but after that display, he didn’t want anyone to be on edge.

 

“Yield?” He asked her, and Hylla took a shaky breath before nodding. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she responded with a glare that didn’t really have the effect she had wanted.

 

“I yield,” she conceded after several tense seconds. “That wasn’t very Roman fighting.”

 

“No,” he agreed, “it wasn’t. But I beat you, and that _is_ Roman.”

 

Slow, loud clapping filled the warehouse, and two figures stepped from the shadows. One was a warrior taller than anyone else present, wearing the combat fatigues of the army, with an assault rifle slung over his shoulder. The other wore more traditional garb, a black robe and a goat-skin cloak. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who these two were. They were two of Rome’s most important deities. They were easily two of the top _three_ Roman deities, in fact.

 

“Well said,” Mars told him, a look of pride upon his face, “It seems that Lupa has taught you well, Perseus. As did Salacia. Never thought of her as a warrior, but I suppose that the millennia of war under the seas would contribute. You’ll go far, kid.”

 

“Thank you, Lord Mars,” Percy said with a bow. The others had dropped to a knee, and the Amazons were almost exploding with excitement at their patron being present. That said, Juno didn’t so much as spare them a glance as she glided over towards him.

 

“Yes, I can see now,” she said, though the words meant nothing to Percy, “I can see very clearly now. You are a rare kind, Perseus. What you’ll do for Rome… it will echo through the ages. Are you ready to serve now?”

 

“By your command, Queen Juno,” Percy replied. One didn’t refuse the Queen of the Gods. “I am here to serve.”

 

“For now,” she hummed gently, “Mars, dear?”

 

“There are six artefacts important to the Romans in the United States,” Mars rumbled, “pieces of our history, ranging from Troy to the Dominate. They need to be recovered, Perseus. They need to be in Roman hands again. Do you understand?”

 

“I do,” he told them, “if I may, where should I start?”

 

“You’ve already got one, actually,” Mars said with a grin, “that Spear? That would be the Spear of Hektor, Prince of Troy. And you, Percy Jackson, use it as a coat rack.”

 

Percy blinked as he processed the information. The battered old spear that Triton had gifted him, the one that, like Mars had said, he used as a coat rack, was the Spear of Hektor? Troy’s greatest warrior? Naturally, he said the only thing he could in his defence.

 

“Oh.”

 

“ _Oh_ indeed,” Mars snickered, “if I were you, I would head north. Quebec, actually. Find Aquilon. He’ll get you started on the right path.”

 

“When do I leave?”

 

“As soon as you can, young one,” Juno stepped in again, “this will not be a short quest. It may last months, or even years, but you cannot return to New Rome until you have found all the relics. To do so would be considered failure. Do you understand?”

 

Ah. There it was. Percy _did_ understand. This wasn’t just a quest. It was a temporary exile. Juno was Jason’s patron, and by getting him out of the city for months, his cousin would continue his rise unimpeded. And if the war began? Percy wouldn’t be anywhere nearby to help. Jason would be looked to as a leader. As a veteran. It was clever.

 

“You _do_ understand,” Juno noted wryly, “Children of Neptune were never famous for their perceptiveness, but you are as much Lupa’s as you are Neptune’s. She trained you well.”

 

Percy didn’t reply to the goddess, but instead gave a deep bow once more. They began to glow, and everyone looked away. When the light faded, they were alone in the warehouse once more. The Amazons looked disappointed to not even have been addressed by their patron, but Hylla wasn’t one of them. Instead, she looked at Percy with a new layer of interest, more so than what had been there previously. Percy kept her gaze for a moment before turning to Tony.

 

“I need to go north,” he said. His Centurion nodded, his expression thoughtful.

 

“We can take you as far as Seattle,” Hylla offered, “and getting to Quebec from there shouldn’t be _too_ difficult, so long as you don’t mind flying.”

 

“I do, actually, but I’ll figure it out,” Percy told her, “I appreciate the ride.”

 

“Of course,” she said slyly, “you’re practically family at this point.”

 

He withheld another groan at the implication in her words, and instead thanked her. As he packed his things, he noticed Leila in his periphery, just far enough away that he couldn’t engage her in conversation, but close enough to notice. He weighed the benefits of telling her about himself and Reyna but decided in the end it was the Daughter of Bellona’s choice. That _was_ the agreement they had made, after all. It was a little petty, but the two girls had some rough patches, and Reyna still smarted about getting decked a year ago.

 

Percy wasn’t going to stand in between his girlfriend and revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave a comment, let me know what you think! We're getting close to the end, only eight chapters left, and then I'll start putting up the chapter's I've written for the sequel, Filii Deorum! I hope y'all have enjoyed so far!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth returns to Camp Jupiter, sans one Son of Neptune.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!

**_Jason_ **

 

When the Fourth returned, Percy wasn’t with them. For a brief moment, all of the anger Jason felt towards his cousin, his _best friend_ , dissipated and was replaced with concern. But the Fourth didn’t seem to be mourning to loss of their greatest warrior, so the concern was now replaced with anger. He hadn’t spoken a word to the Praetors since Gaius had revealed what they had tried to do, almost always sending Dakota if he needed them to know something.

 

“Where is he?” He demanded of Tony. The Centurion didn’t so much as blink at his tone, but that didn’t surprise him. Out of all the other centurions, Tony had dealt with Percy the most, and that included his ‘off’ days, that, if not managed properly, could lead to some pretty serious injuries.

 

“Last I heard, making his way to Quebec,” Tony answered with a shrug. The Texan didn’t seem overly concerned that Percy was heading to _Canada_ , which meant that it had come from someone. Tony seemed to read his mind. “Lord Mars and Queen Juno have given him a quest. Why are you so insistent to see him?”

 

“I want to know why he hid something as large as the _Praetors trying to let him die_ from me,” Jason snapped. Tony stared at him for a moment before letting a string of curses off in Latin

 

“Gaius, you little—” he muttered under his breath, “at least tell me Julia and Maria are still alive?”

 

“Of course they are!” Jason replied hotly, “I didn’t _kill_ them.”

 

“Not yet, at least,” Tony replied cheerily, “but maybe it’ll come in the future, eh?”

 

And with that, the _Princeps Posterior_ strode past him, whistling a cheery tune as he made he was towards the Praetors who had just now been informed of his return. The two looked frustrated beyond belief at what essentially summons from the Centurion of the Fourth Cohort. This was just another continuation of the little war that Tony was waging against the Praetors in his defence of Percy. But he didn’t know that Jason had joined him yet.

 

The Fourth stood in perfect formation while Tony talked with the Praetors. Jason had waited close enough to hear, but far enough away that he wasn’t intruding.

 

“We could have you punished for this, Tony,” Maria was hissing under his breath.

 

“Oh yeah? What’ll the punishment be? Wrestling with the Hydra?” Tony shot back, “or maybe you’ll send me to secure Mount Orthys all by myself? That gets me right out of your way, doesn’t it?”

 

“We’d never do that to you!” Julia said, earning a scoff from Tony.

 

“You did it to a _then_ fourteen-year-old,” he pointed out scathingly, “what if the Fifth had done it?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“What if the _Fifth_ had gone out and did what we just did? The Son of Jupiter, not the son of Mercury, leading a raid against monster warbands? Bringing back trophies?” Tony dumped the contents of the large duffel he had been holding onto the ground, and Jason whistled with appreciation.

 

There were at least four dozen different trophies, remnants from monsters that they had killed.

 

“Each one represents a war-party,” Tony informed them, “ten of those came from Leila’s kill-team. Sixteen came from mine. The other twenty? That’s all Percy. The kid you tried to kill is a beast of a warrior and a hell of a strategist. He’s also responsible for getting us an alliance with the Amazons.”

 

“He did what now?” Reyna squeaked beside Jason, and he shot her a look. Tony did too, but his was more amused than anything else.

 

“He doesn’t have the authority to make alliances!” Maria exclaimed. Tony shrugged in response.

 

“Maybe not, but their queen would only deal with him,” he replied, “so I let him. Lo and behold, we’ve now got contacts not only with _the_ Amazons, but with _Amazon_ as a whole.”

 

  
“The Amazons… run Amazon?” Michaela Farmer asked tentatively from Jason’s left. Tony spared her a quick glance and a wink, but then he was all business again. The tension the _Primus Pilus_ had been holding since he had left seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye.

 

“And where, exactly, _is_ Percy?” Julia asked, “I don’t see him in formation.”

 

“I dunno, Canada or something,” Tony answered with a carefree grin, “he was given a quest by Queen Juno and Lord Mars. Needs to recover some artefacts or something like that. Don’t know what they are, only that he needs to do it.”

 

“We weren’t informed of this,” Maria frowned.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, boss-lady,” Tony said, “maybe they didn’t think you needed to know? Ya know, _operational_ _security_ and all that.”

 

“Watch yourself, Tony,” Julia warned, “I’ve given you a lot of leeway recently, but—”

 

“You haven’t _given_ me anything,” he interrupted her, and someone watching gasped audibly. It sounded like Octavian. What in the name of the Stone was he doing here? “You lost the ability to _give_ me anything when you tried to have my subordinate, _my_ legionary, killed. For the simple reason that he wasn’t _Jason_.”

 

This wasn’t anything that Jason hadn’t thought already, but hearing it said aloud? Hearing the injustice voiced? It _infuriated_ him. Jupiter may be King of the Gods, but he was also the God of Justice, and the-the, the _injustice_ that Percy faced from everyone was so stupid! So what that he was the Son of Neptune? So what that he wasn’t Jason? A person should be judged by their deeds not their blood, and Percy’s deed painted a clearer picture than his heritage ever would.

 

“That’s absurd,” Julia said, but even Jason could tell she didn’t fully mean her words.

 

“But true,” he said, stepping forward, “from the first day Percy arrived, it’s always been me against him, in _all_ of your minds. You’ve seen us as rivals for the same thing from the start. We’re _not_. You’ve been biased against him because you’re biased _for_ me. You want me to succeed because I’m the Son of Jupiter, the King of the Gods. But I’m also the Son of Jupiter, the God of Justice and God of Honour, and you’ve shown neither of those things when it comes to him. You let me join the Fifth because you thought I could make it something great, but you never considered that _Percy_ could be someone great. Only a threat.”

 

“Jason—” Maria tried, but thunder boomed overhead, cutting her off.

 

“I wasn’t finished speaking,” he spat, and Maria recoiled in surprise. He had never spoken to her, to _anyone_ like that before, “I am, and always will be, a soldier of the Legion. But what Percy and I are _not_ , is pawns. We aren’t pieces to be moved across your board, trying to decide who lives and who dies. You don’t get to sacrifice one of us so that the other succeeds. You don’t get to choose which of us is better. Words are wind. It’s the things we do that tell our story, _Praetors_. What have you done? Sent a teenager to his death. But what has _Percy_ done? He defended the honour of his father when no one would. He challenged a Huntress of Diana and earned her respect. He fought and _killed_ the Trojan Sea Monster, when everyone thought he would fail. He eliminated twenty monster warbands. Even now, he serves the gods, searching out artefacts that belong to us, pieces of our history. Between you and him, who would you say is the _real_ Roman?”

 

“That’s enough, Jason,” Lupa’s voice was sharp and commanding, and he couldn’t help but obey. “I understand your frustration, I truly do, but have you considered _why_ Percy didn’t say anything to you? To anyone?”

 

“Lady Lupa?”

 

“Do you really think that I did not talk to him about this? That I did not find out why he did as he did? I was partially to blame for what happened, yet he holds no ill-will against me, nor the Praetors. He kept his tongue because we are at _war_ , and the Legion cannot stand to be divided in a time of blood.” Lupa chided him, “Perseus wanted _unity_ , and now due to the loose tongue of an angry _lar_ , the legion is all but in open revolt. I am not blind to what is happening here. The Fourth Cohort actively disregards the Praetors, and now the Centurion of the Fifth, the Pride of New Rome, rebuffs them? Sends a messenger in his place? The gods whisper of mutiny. Is that what this is?”

 

“Who’s to say?” Jason challenged, feeling bolder than he had ever felt before, “what you might see as mutiny I might see as responsibility. If challenging the Praetors who wanted my cousin to die fighting a beast he had to challenge alone means that I am in mutiny, then I will wear that badge with pride. It is, after all, a tradition of the legions _to_ mutiny when something happens that they don’t like. Not a tradition to be proud of, but there is precedent, Lady Lupa. I stand for justice—justice for Percy, justice for Neptune. Justice for the Fourth, who have suffered under the augurship of a boy who hates one of their number with a passion he could not bring to the field of battle.”

 

Octavian let out an indignant cry at that, but Jason wasn’t done.

 

“If standing up for what is _right_ is mutiny, Lady Lupa, then what does that say about the legion? Does it seem like I am on the _wrong_ side?”

 

There was a moment of silence, and Jason thought he had overstepped his bounds. Lupa stared at him for a moment before sighing, her maw widening as the sound came out.

 

“You are correct,” she said, “what you are doing is _right_ , but it is not _legal_. The same applies to Centurion Giles and the Fourth Cohort. Laws are in place for a reason. Rules are meant to be followed. There is a time and a place to protest them. War is not one of them. Percy would tell you the same.”

 

“He-he actually agrees with Lupa,” Reyna added a bit hesitatingly. All eyes slowly drifted to her.

 

“You knew?” Jason asked her, “and you didn’t tell me?”

 

That hurt. He and Reyna had bonded on their quest to Fort Sumter, and that’s how he had figured out that she liked Percy as much as Percy liked her. They had stayed close ever since. That she would keep something this important from him. Something so… personal, was a hard pill to swallow.

 

“Percy asked me not to say anything,” she admitted, “I didn’t want to break his trust.”

 

“Did you tell him about your sister, the Queen of the Amazons?” Leila spat from the crowd, and Jason let out a mix of a sigh and a groan. There was another secret she had kept from him, but here was Leila, picking a fight.

 

“Your sister is the Amazonian Queen?” Julia asked in surprise, but Reyna had whirled on Leila, her eyes alight with fury Jason hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

 

“No, because it doesn’t matter!” She replied hotly, “Who my sister is has nothing to do with who I am. It has nothing to do with my relationship with Percy. If it had become important, I would’ve told him.”

 

Oh gods, this wasn’t going to end well. Jason could see that things between Leila and Reyna were worse than they had ever been before, and there was that one key word that the daughter of Bellona had used that changed the game. _Relationship_. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. Leila did so fast.

 

“Relationship,” she repeated slowly, “your _relationship_ with him. You’re _in_ a relationship with Percy?”

 

Reyna seemed to have realised her slip, because she shot a glance to the Praetors help.

 

“They are, not that it’s any of your business, Legionary Green,” Maria said, stepping forward. “They reported it to their centurions and to us, as they’re supposed to.”

 

Tony flinched, and Jason didn’t know why for all of twelve seconds.

 

“You knew!” Leila exclaimed, whirling on him, “that’s why you gave me that stupid advice!”

 

“Leila, maybe we should take this somewhere—”

 

“No!” She screamed, before storming off. Jason blinked several times as he processed what had just happened.

 

He didn’t know where Percy was, but by the gods he hoped he knew about the mess he had caused. The mess he would return to. Somehow, Jason doubted it. He’d be in for a hell of a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter is a bit different in formatting, in that it's a series of letters, until the end of the chapter. But we're now one chapter closer to the Siege of Mount Orthys, which, in this story, is the longest chapter I wrote. I hope y'all enjoyed!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy's letters to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave me comments letting me know what you think, or asking questions if you have any!

_Dear Reyna,_

_I met your sister. Thanks for the warning, by the way. We’ve sparred a few times over the past two days, and she’s easily one of the best warriors I’ve ever faced. The first time I won, but I lost our next two matches before regaining the upper hand. You two are like two sides of the same coin. There are differences, of course, but I’ve noticed mannerisms that you two share. She gives me the same look that you do when I do or say something stupid. Her accent is… different, let’s say, from yours. It seems, I dunno, more Mediterranean than Puerto Rican? But it kinda makes sense, I guess. The Amazons have spirits like we do, and they’re some of the first warriors they had. She’s adapted like you have, in her own way._

_I’m on a bus to Detroit, and then I’ll be taking the train all the way to Quebec to meet with Aquilon, the God of the North Wind, in the hopes that he can point me to whatever artefacts I’ve been sent after._

_I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. Ever since we left camp, actually. I miss you more than I thought I would. Maybe you miss me as much as I miss you, I don’t know, but I feel… I don’t know, emptier? Like a piece of me is missing. Pretty cheesy considering we’ve only been dating for two months, but I’ve only now been able to explain how I feel. Maybe I should keep a journal? Anyway, I just wanted you to know what I’m doing. Hopefully the Fourth will be back by the time this reaches you. I hope everything’s good in New Rome._

_Percy_

* * *

 

 

_Dear Reyna,_

_Trains are way better than planes, I’ve decided. They don’t go into the air, and the scenery is beautiful. I had to fill out a customs form for when we got over the border. I then proceeded to manipulate the living hell out of the Mist. It’s the most I’ve messed around with magic… well, ever. But I’m in Canada now. Toronto, to be precise, before pressing on to Quebec. The city’s nice, and the people are friendly. I’ve gotten some strange looks, and a few questions asking if I need help finding my parents, which is… well, it wasn’t fun._

_Someone’s following me, I think. I’ve got this little, I dunno, feeling in the back of mind, a small alarm going off, but I haven’t been able to prove that it’s happening. If it’s not an enemy, then they’re probably just observing, but if it is, then they’re very good at stalking. I’m hoping it’s a friend._

_To continue my trend of being sappy and cheesy, I still miss you. I can feel a pull towards New Rome, and I know why. It’s not because it’s my home. It’s because you’re there. That’s pretty heavy, but I like telling you how I feel. It’s pretty lonely but writing helps. I don’t know how long this quest is going to take, but the longer it takes, the more I’m worried that you’ll ~~find someone else~~ move on without me. If you do, it’s okay. _

_Yours,_

_Percy_

* * *

 

_Dear Reyna,_

_I made it to Quebec and met with Aquilon. He had information for me that would lead to the other artefacts but demanded that I first assist him with a rather large issue he was having. That issue was a huge flock of Stymphalian birds that had decided to nest in his palace. I nearly lost my left eye dealing with them, but in the end, I managed to scare them away. Those things are scary, Rey, are way too big. They took birds of prey to a whole new level. Aquilon was true to his word, though. He gave me four more cities that I need to visit to find the other artefacts, but he had one here for me. I’m not allowed to say what it is, because not supposed to tell anyone at any point, not even when I return to New Rome._

_I decided to start a journal, by the way. Just to keep note on what I was doing, write down my thoughts on different matters. Most of the notes I’ve written are militarily orientated. Maybe I’ll codify it one day, who knows. I went swimming in the Saint Lawrence River and met with its water spirit. Reyna, even the spirits are nicer here, it’s insane. Maybe we should all move to Canada._

_I picked up a book of love poetry because I was trying to figure out ways to keep wooing you so that you wait for me, and I’ve got a few good ones that I think I’ll try out over the next few letters. It’s weird, in a way, how much I miss you. I guess I got used to always being near you, even if we weren’t together. Three years we’ve known each other. Nearly four, actually now that I think about it. Oh! I figured out who was following me. It was a Pegasus that I rescued with the Fourth while we were campaigning. He’s pitch-black and speaks like he’s from Boston. His name is Blackjack, and he calls me boss, which is kinda nice. He’s decided to stick with me, for, and I quote ‘safety and donuts.’ So yeah, I’ve got a pet now. Alright, here’s my sappy love quote for you._

_Love knows not distance; it hath no continents; its eyes are the stars_

_Love,_

_Percy_

* * *

 

_Dear Jason,_

_Hey bro. So, I’ve been writing to Reyna, which you may or may not know. If you do, great, if not, could we maybe keep this between us? I know I was supposed to tell you if anything happened between us, but she wanted for our relationship to stay quiet, for now, and I was happy to oblige her. I’ve got a bit of an update for you. I met with Aquilon in Quebec, and he helped me find the first artefact, which I can’t talk about until I return._

_I found a book about Napoleon Bonaparte’s campaigns in Europe, which I’ve been reading while Blackjack and I rest. Faex, I didn’t tell you about Blackjack! He’s a Pegasus that I can loosely call mine. He’s cool, too. I think you’d like him. Anyway, Napoleon was an amazing strategist and tactician, and I think the legion could learn from his victories and his very few defeats. I think Lupa told us that Arthur Wellesley was a Son of Mars, right?_

_I’m in Salt Lake City right now, searching for… something. I don’t even know what. Apparently ‘it’ll find me when it’s ready,’ but that’s such a vague direction that I’ve just taken to wandering around the city, looking for anything, really. Maybe if I keep looking lost enough, some kind immortal will help me out, right? Alright, I’m getting near the post office, so I’m going to finish this up with a quote I found that I think is important right now._

_‘Conscience is the most sacred thing among men.’ I’ve been thinking about that quote a lot, and I think you should give it some thought as well. Maybe we can talk about it when I get back, yeah?_

_May the Gods bless you, Jason_

* * *

 

_Dear Jason,_

_So remember how I was told that ‘it’ll find me when it’s ready?’ It found me. It’s both metaphorically big and literally small, but it’s immensely important regardless. I was in Salt Lake City for three months before it ‘found’ me though, and I think I’m done with Utah forever. And then some. I’m in Arizona now, following yet another lead Aquilon gave me, and I think I’m heading towards Phoenix, if things stay the same. What could be in Phoenix, I don’t know, but I also didn’t think there’d be anything in Utah, so we’ll see._

_I’ve been keeping a notebook full of strategies and ideas for the Legion. Some were adapted from other generals throughout the ages—Napoleon, Wellesley, Fredrick the Great, Leonidas of Sparta, Hannibal, Agrippa, Subutai, Saladin—you get the point. I mentioned to Reyna that maybe I’d codify these notes one day, but now I’m certain that’s what I’ll do, if I ever have the time for it. I’ve got another quote for you—this one from the Duke of Wellington._

_‘The only thing I am afraid of is fear.’_

* * *

 

 

_Leila,_

_Hey friend. It’s been a while, huh? It’s been what—six months since we last saw each other? I hope the campaigns are going well. I heard from a nymph in the Dryad in Oklahoma that the Legion even sent some units out of state. Must’ve been fun, if you participated. I’m in Dallas right now, down in Texas. It’s a nice city. They’re very proud that JFK was killed here, which is kind of weird, but who am I to judge?_

_I’m getting close to whatever I’m searching for in the city. I can feel it. Like a pulse, there’s something here calling to me. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like this one is a game changer, though I don’t know why. I already know where I’m going after this—New Orleans has come up a few times in my investigations, so whatever the last artefact is, that’s where I’ll find it. I’m so close to coming home, Leila. I’m almost home._

_I’ve been reading a ton since I left, since I’ve actually had time for it. One of the more interesting people I’ve read is Thomas Aquinas. I know, a pagan reading Christian works? Anyway, he has an expression about friendship that made me think about you._

_‘There is nothing on this earth to be prized more than true friendship.’_

_I don’t know if you think of me as a ‘true’ friend, but I think of you that way. Your friendship is important to me, just as important as Jason’s and Reyna’s, even if they’re all different. I want you to know that I always have, and always will, value your friendship._

_May Fortuna Favour you, Leila_

* * *

 

 

**_Tony_ **

 

Percy came back on a Pegasus. A big, black Pegasus, with a duffel bag full of priceless artefacts. He came without warning, and descended right onto Temple Hill, nearly giving Octavian a heart attack. Tony didn’t care for the augur, so he was fine with his protégé’s dramatic return. Word spread quickly that Percy was back, but Tony was the first to reach him. Terminus popped into existence nearby and began scolding Percy for bringing weapons into the sacred grounds, but when the Son of Neptune opened the duffel bag and showed him what was inside, he stopped talking immediately.

 

Amazing. Tony had never seen the boundary god shut up so fast, so whatever was in there was clearly important. Others were arriving, but Percy had stridden into the Temple of Jupiter like he owned it. Some, like Octavian, went to follow him, but the doors, nearly twenty feet tall and made of solid gold, slammed shut as an otherworldly gust of wind blew through, locking Percy inside the temple. Jason came skidding to a halt as the doors closed. He saw the Pegasus and seemed to recognise it from appearance alone. Tony knew that Percy had sent his cousin nearly a dozen letters in the eight months he had been gone, some arriving while Jason was out in the field with the Fifth, others arriving while he was back for rest and recuperation. Leila had received a few too, but Reyna got them like clockwork. Once a week, for eight months, a letter arrived from Percy. No one knew what he was saying in them, but every week, the day after the letter arrived, Reyna would walk with a skip in her step that betrayed her happiness.

 

“What—did he say anything?” Jason asked in confusion. The anger he had felt had cooled in the months since learning, and while he was still testy with the Praetors, he no longer ignored them. Reyna joined them silently, but it was her arrival that got a reaction from the Pegasus. Once Percy had dismounted, it had remained still as a statue, ignoring the attempts of the wranglers to get it to move, but the moment the daughter of Bellona arrived, his ears perked, and he flicked his mane towards her, eyeing her for a moment.

 

“No,” Tony answered as the Pegasus trotted over to them. He was about to reach out for it when Reyna took a step forward, resting a hand on his muzzle, stroking it gently.

 

“You must be Blackjack,” she said, “he talks about you a lot. Says you’re trouble, but he wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.”

 

The horse neighed, and Tony swore it sounded amused, before nuzzling Reyna gently. Tony had never seen a Pegasus be so gentle with a person, but here was this one, this _Blackjack_ , treating Reyna like the queen of horses. It was endearing, in a way.

 

“Jackson’s inside?” Maria asked as she strode forward. She was in full battle armour, but unarmed, as the rules dictated.

 

“He is,” Tony confirmed, “doors are closed, don’t know how. We’ll see what happens when he comes out.”

 

They didn’t have to wait long. Not even five minutes passed before another wind-gust came through, this one from the opposite direction, blowing the large doors back open. Percy stalked back out, the large bronze spear they now knew to be the Spear of Hector gripped in his hand. Several people scrambled out of his way, and Tony didn’t blame them. The expression on Percy’s face was downright murderous. He stalked right up to the Pegasus and grabbed a bag that had been slung on it’s back, tied to the saddle it wore. He flung the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the Temple of Bellona, before emptying the contents of the bag into the box out front.

 

It was dirt. It was a lot of dirt, actually. The bag had to have been enchanted to hold as much dirt as it did, and as the earth tumbled out, the box filled up. Only once it was full did Percy take a step back, and everything lined up in Tony’s mind. Percy was doing something reserved for the Praetors and the Augur, but no one was going to question him right now. He held the Spear of Hector up, so that all present could see it, before ramming it into the earth.

 

“Hear me, Jupiter, King of the Gods!” Percy called out, his voice echoing across Temple Hill with an unnatural reverberation. “Hear me, Mars Ultor! Hear me, Bellona, Queen of War! I bring earth from Mount Orthys, the capital of the Legion’s enemies! I do as I was bid, and with this act, I bring war to the Titans!”

 

There was a tense moment as everyone registered what had just happened, before the first war-cry was called out, and soon, it was spreading. It was only a few voices at first, but that grew into a dozen, and then two dozen, and then hundreds. It was official. The Legion was going to war. The legion was going to Orthys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Y'all won't find out what Percy recovered until the sequel, but it's important. I hope the letters weren't too confusing, nor the ending. The next chapter, chapter twenty, is the siege, and like I said, the longest chapter in this story. After that, there are five more chapters dealing with the aftermath of the Titan War for the Romans.


	20. The Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Twelfth Legion attacks Mount Orthys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please tell me what you think.

**The Siege of Orthys**

 

**_Percy_ **

It began with morning formation. That in itself wasn’t unusual, but everyone knew what was coming. They had spent a week preparing for this battle, ever since his return. He had also been informed of what had happened since he had been gone. Leila and Reyna… it wasn’t good, what was going on between them. It was so bad, in fact, that Tony had put Leila on the complete opposite side of the cohort. She had been demoted to the last line for several outbursts against Tony and the Praetors. Percy hated that this was happening, but he had more important things to deal with right now. Assaulting Orthys was the chief among those things. Since he wasn’t an officer, he had been excluded from any briefings that the Praetors had, but he wasn’t complaining. It gave him plenty of opportunity to train. And by the gods did he train. He hadn’t used _Crocea_ _Mors_ so much in his life. He had destroyed nine training posts since he had come back. Jason was the only one willing to fight him,

 

“You’re agitated,” Jason noticed, ducking under a particularly violent swing, “and you’re getting sloppy because of it. What’s on your mind?”

 

“A lot,” Percy grunted in response, “this is going to be a big fight. People are going to die.”

 

“We’ve dealt with death before,” Jason answered.

 

It was true. They _had_ dealt with death before. It was part of being a demigod, but what they were about to experience? What they were about to suffer? They hadn’t dealt with that before. Percy had read a lot while he was searching for the artefacts, but he had also conversed with many, many beings. Dryads and Nymphs, spirits and cyclopes. Beings who had seen war and been through it. And he still knew what they had told him wouldn’t prepared for what was to come. He told Jason as much.

 

“Death isn’t the end, Percy,” he said, “we both know that. One of us could die. Both of us could die, or neither of us could die. It’s the same with everyone. When it comes time for the chord to be cut, it’ll happen. You can’t stop fate.”

 

“No,” Percy murmured in agreement, “we can’t.”

 

“How’s Reyna?” Jason asked, parrying another strike.

 

“She’s good,” Percy blocked an attack with his vambrace, “she’s anxious. Worried about the fight to come. We all are.”

 

“I heard she punched you,” Jason admitted, “for being gone for so long.”

 

“Yep,” he answered, “I thought she had broken my jaw, but she just knocked a tooth out. Blackjack thought it was hilarious.”

 

“And how is the big black asshole?” Was Jason’s next question. Percy had written that he thought the two would get along, but Jason did _not_ like the Pegasus. He loved ramming Jason when he least expected it, and one time, the winged horsed and nearly knocked him out of the air while he was working on his air-control. That had been dangerous.

 

“Thinks you’re a prick,” Percy laughed, his first genuine laugh in some time, “but also admitted you fly pretty good for a ‘flailing human.’”

 

“I hate that horse,” Jason told him, “why you thought we’d get along, I have no idea.”

 

“Honestly?” Percy tipped his head towards Jason. His cousin nodded back. “I thought you two looked alike.”

 

“Hey!” Jason called out, dropping his sword and tackling Percy to the ground. _Crocea Mors_ disappeared at will so that he wouldn’t hurt his cousin. The two wrestled for several minutes before someone cleared their throat.

 

Percy had Jason in a head-lock when he looked up to see Reyna and her centurion, Vanessa Grey, standing over them.

 

“Uh, hi?” Jason greeted, wriggling out of the hold. “There isn’t a briefing, is there?”

 

“No,” Vanessa chuckled, “there isn’t. Not an official one, anyway, but we figured having each Centurion go over what we were told with their seconds would be a good idea, so go get Dakota, or Gwen, or whoever’s your second this week and bring them to the arena. Percy needs to go find Tony.”

 

“Aye aye, ma’am,” Percy responded, clambering up to his feet while pushing Jason back down. The son of Jupiter swatted at his legs, and Percy stumbled forward. Reyna caught his arm and kept him from falling. He gave her a tender smile. “My hero.”

 

“I won’t always be around to catch you,” she reminded him, but had a small smile of her own on her face, “better learn to walk properly.”

 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, just stumbling my way around,” he joked. It had been meant _as_ a joke, but Reyna gripped his arm tightly.

 

“We’re going to war, Percy, for real. I know you fought while travelling, but this is it. It’s make or break. If we lose—” Percy didn’t give her the chance to finish that line of thought.

 

“Hey,” he cut her off softly, “we’re going to win this. We’re the Twelfth Legion. We’re the best soldiers in the world, lead by the best officers in the world. We’ve been training for this for _years_. Jason and I have been training almost our whole lives for this. I have _so_ much to come back to. I went eight months without seeing you. I need at least eight years to make up for that absence. I’d like to think you want to see me again too.”

“You know I do, you big doofus,” Reyna sighed, before straightening up, “you’re right. This is what we were born to do. We’re doing this for our home. For our parents.”

 

“For our parents,” he echoed, “long may they reign.”

 

He could feel Reyna’s eyes on him, but his own gaze had drifted towards Temple Hill, where the artefacts he had recovered were stored safely inside the Statue of Jupiter. Now it made sense why it was so big. There was a _vault_ of all things hidden in the base, where pedestals had waited for each artefact. Juno had told him that he’d know when to reveal them. That the time to show the legion what she called the ‘Panoply of War’ would come. But not yet.

 

“Tony’s with Michaela, Vanessa and Daniel,” Reyna told him, “I’m taking you to them. Or, I’m trying to, but you’re walking the wrong way.”

 

“I am?” He blinked, letting her pull him the opposite way he had been walking. The path to the river, actually. They both knew why he would’ve been drawn there, and they both knew why he couldn’t go. It would be _so_ easy to let himself go further and further out to sea, until he was simply gone. The sea was trying to call him to safety. “Right, let’s go.”

 

The Centurions were meeting in the Praetor’s booth of the arena. Percy had never been into it, and he had to admit, it was pretty snazzy. Low tables were framed with couches, and those same tables had photos spread across them, held down with weights. Percy and Jason had taken the photos, riding Blackjack and flying under his own power, respectively. They gave a clear image of the fortress, but little information about the forces that would be inside them.

 

Jason, Gwen, and Vanessa were the last to arrive, the Centurion of the Second being generous enough to give Percy and Reyna some alone time as they made their way here. Percy studied everyone present. Michael Kahale was Michaela Farmer’s go-to legionary, so it made sense that he was here, but why _Octavian_ had joined them was beyond Percy. Reyna, of course, was from the second, and Hank Jones was of the third. Percy was from the Fourth, and Gwen was Jason’s second. This was the current and future officer class.

 

“Pretty much it’s going to be an uphill battle,” Michaela started, her rank making her the most senior officer, even though Daniel had been a centurion longer than her. “We’re expecting to be forced to take several paths, but there’s this clearing _here_ ,” she pointed to a spot at the base of Orthys, “and this is where we’ll meet back up. From there, we’ll be forced to either take _down_ the walls or capture them. Inside the fortress itself is where it gets hazy, but we’ll break into kill teams in order to clear it as fast as possible.”

 

“What if we encounter Titans?” Michael asked with a frown, and Octavian made something between a cross of a sob and a gag at the possibility.

 

“Pull back and get reinforcements,” Michaela answered straight away. Percy disagreed, and something on his face must’ve shown, because she gave him a long, hard look. “Do you have advice to the contrary, Legionary Jackson?”

 

Percy looked to Tony for permission or help, he honestly wasn’t sure which. His Centurion gave him a sharp nod.

 

“Titans are beings of incredible power, but they’re not invincible,” he said slowly, “something I learned not only with Lupa, but with Lady Salacia and Lord Triton was that immortals _can_ be beat. A kill team, if properly used, could take down a Titan. Surrounding it from all sides and applying constant pressure would do the trick.”

 

“But there would casualties!” Octavian protested.

 

“Where do you think we’re going, Octavian?” Jason asked, “this is war of course there’s going to be casualties. A Titan is a game changer, and if we can get rid of even _one_ …”

 

“The risk is worth the reward,” Michaela nodded, “then we’ll change the plan. Make sure to inform all kill-team leaders and have some drills run afterwards, just to get the movement down. Anything else?”

 

“How would we take the walls?” Percy asked, leaning forward, “they’re nearly ten feet tall, and unless we’ll be bringing ladders with us, I don’t see how we’ll get over them.”

 

“Each legionary will be given a piece of a ladder to hook on their harness,” Tony answered, “and each cohort will be able to assemble three, at least. That’s how we’ll get over them.”

 

“What about archers?” Reyna frowned, “anyone climbing the walls would be vulnerable to archer fire.”

 

“Not if we could clear the walls,” Jason mused, “a concentrated storm along the battlements just before ascent begins?”

 

“It’s possible,” Percy agreed, rubbing his chin, “we certainly _could_ do it, but there’s the chance the metal would attract the lightning.”

 

“So ladders up _afterwards_ ,” Michael offered, “keep the cohorts in _testudo_ until afterwards?”

 

“And this is all assuming there’s no counter attack,” Hank added, “so at least one cohort would have to be on guard.”

 

“Two,” Gwen corrected, “to have a sufficient force. But that still leaves three cohorts available to scale the walls.”

 

“So who takes the walls?” Michaela asked them, and it clicked in Percy’s mind what this was. This was group training for the second in commands. They were formulating this war-plan because the Centurions knew they would be doing it eventually.

 

“It’d have to be the Third, Fourth, and Fifth,” Octavian said quietly. All eyes went to him, “the First and Second have the numbers to hold off any force that might come from behind or sally out from inside.”

 

Michael was the first to shoot a glance to Percy, but the others soon followed.

 

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugged, “Octavian’s right. It’s actually a really good point.”

 

The legacy of Apollo sagged in relief at not being shot down, and despite how much Percy disliked him, he couldn’t help but feel pity for him. He was so used to people looking down on him, seeing him as someone inferior to the others, and Percy knew it was his fault. While Octavian hadn’t been powerful before his fight with Percy, he had been influential, but since he had been beaten down in front of the legion and half the city, he had lost any clout he once held, even as Augur.

 

“Then the First and Second will hold a defensive posture while the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Cohorts scale the walls and secure the gates. What then?” Vanessa asked them.

 

“Then we go inside,” Percy said, “A unit to hold the gates, I’d say whichever one suffered the most casualties at the point. The rest sweep inwards,” he pointed at several of the buildings. They were connected by wide roads, “I’d recommend a spiral sweep. Encircle the central compound before closing in on it with everyone we’ve got. That’ll be where Saturn’s throne is, so it’ll also be the most defended.”

 

The others murmured the assent, and the Centurions nodded to one another.

 

“What about the battle-plan the Praetors created?” Jason asked with a frown.

 

“It was never permanent,” Julia said, emerging from the shadows. Percy blinked. He hadn’t even realised they were there. “It was a good plan, sure, but this? This might win the war for us. You all did a phenomenal job.”

 

“We’re proud of you,” Maria told them, “we might not say it much, and sometimes you might think that we’re not, but I promise you, when I look at you, _all_ of you, I see the future of the Legion. This is the plan that we’ll use, but I need all of you to remember something as we have our last day of preparation—No plan survives contact with the enemy.”

 

**_Jason_ **

****

_No plan survives contact with the enemy._

 

Weren’t those words of truth? Swearing as he felt another monster throw itself at his shield, Jason scanned around, looking for a way out of the death trap the Fifth was currently in. His cohort had taken the route they had been assigned, and once they were far enough away from any of the other cohorts, the Titan Army had launched its ambush, emerging from the rocks, the trees, and the ground itself. Jason was boxed in, fighting a desperate battle to reach the clearing, where, _hopefully_ , the rest of the Legion was beginning to form battle lines.

 

He let out a scream as he called down a lightning strike, wiping out a chunk of the force attacking his cohort. They only had one direction to go. Forward. Barking out a command in Latin, he ushered the Fifth up the path, keeping their formation tight and in control as they forced a wedge in the monsters ahead of them. He called down lightning when he could, but if he kept using his powers this much, he’d have no energy to fight at all.

 

He gutted a ghoul as the Fifth finally broke through to the clearing, only to find that the First was the only other cohort present. He swore as he moved to the Fifth’s designated position, but the gap between the two cohorts was far too big for his liking. The others needed to arrive, and soon. There were no monsters nearby, which concerned Jason immensely. Still, he would take the break where he could get it.

 

“Take a knee!” he called out, “but be ready!”

 

The response was immediate, with many of the Fifth simply collapsing to the ground before using their shields to pull themselves up. Jason’s eyes scanned left to right as he looked for signs from the other cohorts. There! The Second was stumbling to the clearing, bloodied, but mostly intact. Jason had been fortunate enough not to lose anyone. The Third followed shortly after, but the Fourth was nowhere to be seen. He could hear the sound of fighting in the air but didn’t know _where_ it was coming from. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

 

“Gods almighty!” Gwen cried out, pointing to the west. Jason’s gaze followed, and his breath caught in his throat. A wave nearly a hundred feet tall was barrelling towards the mountain, and the Fourth was hightailing it towards the clearing. Jason didn’t see the wave hit, but he sure as Styx heard it, along with the screams of the monsters who were killed as the wave crashed down on them and dragged them back into the sea. Jason both heard and felt part of the mountain sheering off under the intense pressure and power. The sound of rock smashing against rock and crashing into the water below filled the air, and someone muttered a prayer of protection in his cohort. He didn’t bother correcting them. It was that terrifying what had just happened.

 

Minutes later, as the Legion watched and waited with bated breath, Percy came stumbling up the path, and a legionary detached from the Fourth, rushing over and supporting him. Jason recognised the soldier—Aidan, a son of Bellona, and the second-best duellist the Fourth had, after Percy. Granted, that wasn’t saying much, because Percy was in a league of his own, but it was still something to be proud of. There was a lull in the fighting, and everything settled into peace—for now.

 

Percy had downed half his canteen before dumping the rest onto him, and while Jason would have normally been concerned by the waste of water, Percy could literally summon it at will. It wouldn’t be worth making notice of it.

 

“Why aren’t they attacking?” Jason muttered to himself, staring at the imposing fortress before them. Orthys inspired a terror that Jason wasn’t used to feeling, and from the way the others around him were reacting, he wasn’t the only who felt it. “Why aren’t _we_ attacking?”

 

“Something’s wrong,” Percy’s voice suddenly came from his right, and a quick glance showed that his cousin had moved beside him. “The Praetors are hesitating.”

 

“I can see that,” Jason replied, “but _why_?”

 

“Because there’s something inside that’s making them pause,” Percy said, eyes locked on the gates of Orthys, “I can feel it. So can they, somehow. Something—someone—is coming. A titan, maybe, but I have no idea who’ll they send. For all we know, it’s Saturn that’s about to come bursting out of there, and then we’re well and truly fucked.”

 

“Thank you, captain optimism,” Jason sighed, but before he could speak again, the gates crashed open, and screaming hordes of monsters came rushing out. From the walls, a storm of arrows descended from the skies, and legionaries rushed to heft their shields into position as the _testudo_ was adopted without command. Percy didn’t move, and somehow, all the arrows just missed him. Jason didn’t question it, and before long, his cousin was moving back to his place in the battle-line.

 

“ _Ue!_ ” Jason called out, “Brace!”

 

The monsters slammed into them with reckless abandon. Telekhines, Dracaena, Empousai and Harpies threw themselves against the shield wall, hoping to score hits and tear his soldiers apart, but the Fifth was far too disciplined to allow that to happen. Jason had drilled them hard, and the lessons they had learned during their campaigns against the different warbands had taught them the best ways to retain their numbers.

 

“ _Dis!_ ” He barked, and the Fifth heaved as one, shoving the horde of monsters back. _Gladii_ darted out of tiny gaps, impaling monsters on their tips before slipping back into the shield-wall, and any gaps closed. All in all, it took a second and a half for that to occur, and there were still _far_ too many monsters. “ _Dis!_ ”

 

He lost count how many times he called out the order, but no matter how many times it happened, it wouldn’t thin the numbers. They just kept coming, and coming, and coming. Jason had thought the Legion had cut down the numbers the monsters had enough to make the battle slightly more even, but from what he was seeing, that wasn’t the case. He and Percy had called down several lightning strikes, using them sparingly, but it didn’t fail to escape Jason that Percy was able to call down bigger and more powerful strike with more frequency, and still be able to fight effectively, which betrayed exactly just how powerful his cousin truly was.

 

For a moment, things were looking good. Jason swore that the horde was beginning to thin, and the Legion was doing some real damage to them. Of course, that’s also when everything had to go wrong. It was almost like all sound around him stopped except for the one cry.

 

“Centurion Farmer is dead!”

 

Jason whirled to his right, cutting down a skeleton that got a tad too close and slamming the boss of his shield into the face of an Empousai. On the right flank, someone had pulled Michaela Farmer back behind the First, and Jason nearly gagged. Her face was gone, dissolved by the acid of some monster. Michael Kahale was doing his best trying to restore order, but the First was beginning to buckle.

 

“Gwen!” He called out, but his friend had already seen what was happening.

 

“Go!” She called back, before barking an order out to the Fifth.

 

Jason weaved through monsters and legionaries alike as he made his way to the First. He met up with Percy halfway there, the two cutting an even wider gap in the lines that the others quickly took advantage of. When they reached Michaela’s body, Tony Giles, who had beat them there, was on his knees in front of it.

 

“Tony!” Percy cried out, “you’ve gotta get up! We’ve got to—”

 

Percy had grabbed his Centurion by the shoulder to turn him, but Tony had moved far too easily, and Jason quickly realised why. He was dead, too. An arrow had lodged in his throat, the angle far too steep to have been anything but a lucky shot. He had arrived here only to die. Tony’s body slumped to the ground as Percy stared at it, blinking several times before turning to the First. No, he was looking past them. Jason followed his gaze and it landed on a group of Dracaena archers on a knoll.

 

Before Jason could ask Percy what he was doing, the knoll exploded. Just… exploded in a mass of dirt and stone, the fragments shredding a cluster of nearby monsters before they could even reach the fight. The ground in front of the Twelfth was shaking violently, but amazingly, the patches of land where they stood weren’t affected at all. In fact, it was almost _more_ solid that it had been before.

 

“Go back to your Cohort,” Percy told Jason, “and do me a favour and tell Leila she’s in command of the Fourth.”

 

Jason didn’t get the chance to argue. Percy had spun around and grabbed a legionary having a panic attack and spoke to her quietly. After a moment, she nodded, and re-joined the formation. Percy’s voice boomed as he barked out order to the First, Michael Kahale grabbing his arm, his expression relieved beyond belief.

 

“Reform!” Percy roared, “In the name of Jupiter, reform!”

 

As he exhorted them onwards, the First began to look like a proper cohort again, especially with Percy at the lead. By the time Jason reached the Fourth, Leila had already taken command, and was doing a decent job in keeping the line intact.

 

“Leila!” He called out, and she spared him a quick glance, “Percy says you have command, but you’ve already done that, so I guess I’ll just move on.”

 

“Your cohort is fine, Grace,” Leila called back, but she was already refocused on controlling her little slice of land.

 

Still, her assessment was right, and when Gwen handed control back to him, he was proud to see that the Fifth hadn’t taken any losses since he left them. The ground was saturated with monster dust, more than Jason had ever seen in his life, and he gave off a feral grin at the satisfaction that gave him. So what they kept sending monsters? All that happened was that they died. The Legion was _winning_.

 

Soon, Maria came over, assuming command of the left flank, the Fourth and Fifth Cohorts, while Julia assumed command of the First to the Third. Slowly, the legion began to pinch, the horde being closed closer and closer together. As they wheeled around, he could see Percy leading the First in a brutal skirmish against the monsters. It was amazing, how well he fit in with them, considering most of his time with the Legion had been enduring their stares and whispers. Even without Michael Kahale by his side, Percy was a force to be reckoned with, but together, the two made an unstoppable force that couldn’t be matched.

 

Once more, his mind went towards victory. They had this. They were pushing the monsters back, forcing them against the walls of Orthys itself. Ever so slowly, the horde was getting smaller, but as the fodder went away, the true veterans among them revealed themselves. Cyclopes made their presence known, rising from the earth, and a bull with bronze horns tried to gut Percy before two legionaries tackled it from the side and stabbed it, over and over again. Arrows fell from the sky in droves, and the advance ground to a halt as they reformed into _testudo_. Jason grit his teeth, but prepared to receive orders. All they had to do was take out this last warband, and they would be able to begin the assault on the walls itself. They were _so_ close. They hadn’t come this far to fail, nor would they. Rome depended on them. They were going to win this.

 

Naturally, everything got worse from there.

 

**_Reyna_ **

****

She didn’t see Daniel Tan die. She was too busy holding Vanessa as she bled out, a snapped spear impaled through her gut. Matthew, the Second’s medic, was doing his best, but Reyna knew that it was pointless. Vanessa was going to die. She _was_ dying. Reyna could stay here and hold Vanessa as she passed, or she could take command of the Cohort and make sure what happened to the First didn’t happen here. Percy had wrangled them back into order, but the fact that the _First_ had been the first cohort to come close to breaking spoke volumes of the threat they were facing.

 

Reyna didn’t want to let Vanessa go, but she knew she had to. The Second couldn’t fail. Not now. She gently placed her mentor down, before rising to her feet.

 

“ _Dis!_ ” she barked, and the intensity in her voice surprised her. The Second, to their credit, acted without thinking, giving a mighty shove before gutting any monsters in front of them. “ _Dis!_ ”

 

She backed up, taking in the battlefield before them. They had closed in around the Monster horde, but now new reinforcements were pouring out of the gate, putting too much pressure on the Legion. There wasn’t enough room to properly manoeuvre the cohorts, and they were starting to collide with each other on the flanks. They needed to—

 

“Percy!” She called out to her boyfriend, somewhere on her right. After a moment of searching, she saw him, headbutting an Empousai before drawing _Crocea Mors_ across its throat. “Percy!”

 

“Coming!” He called back, his voice like a thunderclap. Several monsters flinched at the power behind it, and that reaction got them killed quickly. He called something to Michael, before cutting a path to her. Monsters threw themselves at him, and every one of them died to his blade. A group of Telekhines began making a bee-line for him, but a wave nearly ten feet tall materialised from thin air, washing them away, as well as giving the First and Second some breathing room. “What is it?”

 

He slipped his helmet off when he arrived, not at all phased by the prospect of being hit by a stray arrow. His confidence both inspired and worried her, but she didn’t have time to delve into those emotions. His arms were covered in small cuts, but otherwise, he seemed fine. Percy seemed to sense her worry, and he gave her a crooked grin before reaching out and cupping her face gently with one hand.

 

“I’m fine,” he assured her, “now what do you need?”

 

“I can’t find Julia,” she said, “we need to pull back from the walls. We need room to move.”

 

“Julia’s dead,” Percy grimaced, bringing his thumb up to his throat, “spear. She was dead before she realised what had happened. I’m technically in command here, if only barely. I’ll see what I can do, but someone needs to get word to Maria that she’s sole Praetor.”

 

“I’ll send a runner,” she assured him, “stay safe.”

 

“I will if you will,” he replied with a mirthless chuckle. The monsters seemed to have learned their lesson, and while none directly approached Percy as he made his way back to the First, but he was targeted even more by the archers that could see him. In a move that displayed just how powerful Percy really was, he kept a shield of water in between himself and the arrows, the barrier moving alongside him, not wavering once as he attacked small clusters of monsters unfortunate enough to be in his way.

 

Reyna turned her focus back to the Second, and keeping them tight.

 

“ _Dis_!” She cried out, and her cohort reacted with their usual efficiency. As they finished gutting the monsters in front of them, the First’s buccina sounded, issuing the order for a retreat of twenty paces. There was a ripple throughout the entire legion as each soldier gave one final shove before they began backing up, trusting the soldier behind them to hold onto their harness and keep them steady. Those in the rear set the pace, gently pulling those in front of them with them. It repeated all the way from the back to the front, and Reyna believed that even Julius Caesar himself would have been proud of the smooth withdrawal.

 

The tide of monsters had been stemmed, and there were only a few stragglers who were quickly cut down. As the Twelfth Legion caught their breath, the call for all Centurions to meet was passed down. It was only when she met with the others that she realised just how decimated the Legion was. Jason was the only Centurion standing, and Maria was nowhere to be seen. They didn’t need to ask where she was.

 

“We’ve lost our command structure, save for Jason,” Percy said by way of greeting, “that makes him the senior officer, regardless of who is commanding what cohort. We need to figure out how to proceed from here.”

 

“We’re not getting over the walls,” Reyna pointed out, “that plan won’t work anymore. Every time we’re about to get close, another wave of monsters comes out. We can’t handle the pressure.”

 

“Agreed,” Jason nodded, “so we need solutions. I’m open to anything.”

 

“We need to draw their forces out of Orthys,” Hank Green said, his arm sword-arm bandaged heavily, “if we can crush them in a pitched battle…”

 

“That still leaves Orthys itself,” Jason replied, “our objective is still Saturn’s throne. If we destroy the throne, his base of power is gone, and he can’t threaten the Olympians. So how do we achieve that?”

 

“Kill teams,” Leila offered, “or rather, _a_ kill team. While the rest of the legion engages the enemy, a kill team infiltrates Orthys and destroys the throne. The army will collapse at that point, won’t it?”

 

“Hopefully,” Jason said, “but even if they don’t their morale will be shattered. It’s a good plan. Who goes in?”

 

Reyna wasn’t the only one to notice that Percy had been silent since ceding command to Jason, but before anyone could say anything on the matter, he spoke up.

 

“You do,” he said, “there’s only two of us here who could properly destroy the throne. You lead the strike force in and blow that thing to pieces. Each cohort sends their two best fighters with you. Small unit, maximum efficiency.”

 

“Yeah, except we’re the best fighters from each of our cohorts, respectively,” Hank pointed out, “and I have a feeling you weren’t including yourself in the kill team, Perce.”

 

“I wasn’t,” Percy agreed, “someone needs to draw out the monsters and whoever’s leading them. Again, only two of us here could feasibly achieve that. Respectfully to Jason, I think I have a better chance of doing that.”

 

“Why?” Leila asked, “because you’re more powerful?”

 

“No,” Percy said before becoming silent for a moment. “Because I turned Saturn down once before. He won’t let the insult stand.”

 

“What?” Jason exclaimed, grabbing Percy’s shoulders, “when did this happen? Why didn’t we know about it?”

 

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Percy said, shrugging Jason’s hands off, “it was when I was on my quest. He kept creeping into my dreams, encouraging me to turn against New Rome, to help him overthrow the gods. I kept refusing, and he kept sending monsters after me. After killing several dozen of his minions, he got the idea. Kept sending them after me, but stopped sending them with a recruitment pitch. We can talk about it later, I promise, but first, we need to win this fight.”

 

“I—fine,” Jason said, “but this isn’t over.”

 

“I don’t doubt it,” Percy agreed. “take two from each cohort. Centurions to pick the legionaries in question, and then head back down the path the Fourth came from. There’s a whole chunk of the mountain missing, which opened a path around the fortress. Take that to the other side and sneak in through there.”

 

Jason nodded silently, and each centurion returned to their cohorts. Reyna grabbed Percy before he could make it to the First.

 

“You should have told me,” she said quietly, and Percy nodded.

 

“Probably, but all it would have done was cause more worry that we didn’t—don’t—need,” he told her, “besides, I never even considered it. You see, there’s this daughter of Bellona I have my eye on, and I know her pretty well, so if I betrayed Rome, a laughable idea to start with, I figured she would have been very upset. Since seeing her happy is one of the few things that makes _me_ genuinely happy, I decided that joining Saturn wasn’t the way to go. See, I can make smart decisions.”

 

She almost laughed. Even in the middle of a war, Percy wasn’t afraid to tell her that he cared for her. It was a unyielding part of him that she would always treasure. He looked around, but saw that Michael was handling the First without any problems. Even Octavian, easily the most ambitious person in the Legion, was deferring to the soldiers. Percy took her hands in his and placed a gentle kiss on them.

 

“Once this is over, we’ll have plenty of time for ourselves,” he promised her, “but for now, we’ve got a war to win.”

 

Then he was gone, returned to the First. He had a quick exchange of words with Michael, who seemed ready to argue, but he stopped himself and nodded, before plucking another legionary out of the line and making his way to join Jason at the back of the Legion. It was clear to her why he had been upset. Percy and Michael had an odd friendship, one that had surprised many, and Reyna knew the burly son of Venus wouldn’t be happy not being able to fight at the son of Neptune’s side.

 

When Percy retook his position with the First, he barked out an order she didn’t hear over the howl of the wind and they, as one, raised their shields in front of their faces, covering their mouths. Reyna and the others’ confusion lasted only a moment before the low growl began. It was the _barritus_ , an ancient war cry from the legions of the late empire. She didn’t even need to give the command before her own cohort was doing the same, quickly followed by the Third, Fourth, and Fifth. How Percy knew that the First would understand the order pricked at her mind, but she pushed it aside as the gates to Orthys opened once more, and monsters began spilling out.

 

These weren’t the monsters of before, however. These ones were armoured, and they were marching in formation. They looked like the ancient hoplites of Greece, and Reyna felt a savage grin spread across her face. The phalanx had broken before the Roman legions before, and they would do so again. This was a fight they could win, easily. But it wasn’t just hoplites. Swordsmen and archers came marching out too, and it wasn’t until the last figure exited Orthys than Reyna realised just how bad their situation truly was.

 

The last figure was nearly eight feet tall and carried a sword the size of Percy. He wore a bronze muscle cuirass, and his head was covered by a helmet forged in the shape of a Ram’s head. He strutted through the ranks of monsters who parted before him like a wave, and when he reached the front, he planted the tip of his sword into the earth, resting his forearms on its cross-guard. A shiver reverberated through the Legion as they realised they were face to face with a Titan, and one who seemed entirely unphased with their presence. This was a being who felt he was so far above them that they barely registered as a threat. They were nothing to him, and they all knew it.

 

“So,” Krios asked, his voice booming across the clearing, “which one of you ants is in charge here?”

 

Naturally, Percy stepped forward without so much as blinking.

 

**_Percy_ **

****

“That would be me,” he said, stalking to the centre of the clearing so that he was opposite of the Titan. The legion rippled as they followed his moment, an action likewise mirrored by the monsters, but for two different reasons. Percy’s power was inspiring confidence in his men and fear in his enemies. As it should be. “I must say, I’m not surprised that you were the one chosen to remain, Krios. You _were_ the only one to be shamed by Jupiter after the First Titanomachy, after all.”

 

“Perhaps Saturn chose a regent he can trust, boy,” Krios responded, but Percy could feel the frustration radiating off of him. The Titan of the South wouldn’t let the insult stand. “Care for a wager?”

 

“Maybe,” Percy replied, knowing what the challenge would be.

 

“It’s simple,” Krios laughed, “we fight, you and me. If I win, my army will destroy yours, and I will watch with glee. If you win… well, it won’t happen.”

 

“If I win,” Percy told him, “you go back to Tartarus. I’m sure you remember it fondly. The terms of the duel?”

 

“ _Ad mortem,_ ” Krios told him. Percy weighed the option. If he took the match, there was a more than fair chance he could die. But if he won, then Krios would be banished to Tartarus, and his army would crumble without his leadership. It also gave Jason and his kill team a better chance of achieving their objective. It was an easy decision.

 

“Very well,” he said, bringing _Crocea Mors_ to bear. Krios’ eyes narrowed at the sight of the legendary blade, and Percy heard a bloodthirsty growl from his helm.

 

“That blade will make a fine trophy, boy,” Krios stated, swinging his sword up. He clearly expected Percy to make the first move. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of proving him right.

 

Instead of moving, Percy settled into a defensive posture, before signalling Jennifer, the _aenator_ of the Legion, who blew her _buccina_ , giving the order to take ten steps backwards. Despite still being slightly in awe at being in the presence of a Titan, even if he were a hostile one, the Twelfth obeyed. There was now a sizeable gap between Percy and the rest of the Legion, which would give him the room he needed to manoeuvre during the fight. Krios let out another growl, and attacked.

 

He was fast, Percy would give him that. If he hadn’t been trained the way he had, he might not of seen him move. That said, there was a reason the Salacia had him fight Triton underwater—in their natural element, water deities were _scary_ fast. His reflexes as a demigod were already far better than any mortals, and that had been reinforced both with Lupa and with Salacia. Even then, he was just barely able to move out of the way of the overhead strike from the large sword.

 

The impact sent gravel flying up into the air, and it rattled off of Percy’s scutum and he swung _Mors_ , the tip of the gladius scoring a thin cut on Krios’ arm. The titan let out a roar at first blood not being his, and a viscious backhand caught Percy’s shield, sending him flying backwards. He rolled to a halt before rolling again to avoid another strike from the absurdly large sword.

 

He felt a tug in his gut as a pillar of water pushed up from the ground, forcing him to his feet without even having to let go of his weapons. Krios grunted in frustration and swung again. Percy ducked under it and stabbed, the blade glancing off Krios’ armour. The Titan laughed and brought the sword back. Percy tried to block it with his shield. Bad idea.

 

The _scutum_ , made of the toughest wood in the world and reinforced with strips of Imperial Gold, shattered when the pommel of Krios’ sword struck it, shards of wood prickling Percy’s arm. He hissed in slight pain before backing up. He swept _Mors_ carefully down his arm, and the largest pieces were pulled out by the blade. The other splinters could wait. He leapt backwards to avoid another strike. The sword Krios was using had to weigh at least a hundred fifty pounds but he swung it like it was a toy. That was slightly bothersome, because he didn’t show any signs of slowing down.

 

“Avoiding your powers, Neptune-spawn?” Krios taunted, “afraid your legion will abandon you once they see the destruction you can bring to bear? Are you worried they might decide that you are too powerful to live? That you’ll be too much of a threat to the son of Jupiter?”

 

Percy grit his teeth, but didn’t reply.

 

“Come on, son of Neptune,” Krios laughed loudly, “bring on the _storm_.”

 

“Since you asked so nicely,” Percy spat back, “I’ll indulge you.”

 

And he did. He let loose in a way he had never done before. His powers had been trained to a knife’s edge, but they brought a destructive power that the legion had only seen once before, when Shen Lun destroyed their original camp in San Francisco. The wind around them picked up, and storm clouds rolled in all around them, lightning brimming, but not striking, lighting the sky with flashes of white. Water condensed in the air and Percy could feel it all around. He could even feel it in Krios’ ichor. A wall of solid water formed to his right, and slammed into the Titan, sending him stumbling a few steps back. Before he could recover, another wave slammed into him from the other side, and then the opposite side again. He roared out a challenge that was swallowed by the sky booming loudly as the largest lighting bolt Percy had ever seen struck _inside_ of Orthys. Another one, this one of Percy’s creation, followed, striking Krios as a wave of power burst out of the dark fortress.

 

“What?” Krios cried out, “what did you do? You… you lying scum! You infiltrated my fortress?”

 

“I’m sure it was pitifully easy, Krios,” Percy responded, the taunt flowing easily, “and you were so eager to deal with the army before you, you didn’t think to ask a _very_ important question. Where was the son of Jupiter?”

 

Krios roared out and attacked, but this time, Percy didn’t move away from the blade. He went towards it, diving forward and rolling underneath the attack, before coming up. He jammed _Mors_ into Krios’ leg, which brought the Titan down to a knee, making him a more even height with Percy.

 

“You’re fast, Krios, but you’re nothing special,” Percy told him, before pressing _Mors_ down his collarbone into his heart, “just another beast for me to kill.”

 

“If I go,” Krios spat ichor out, “you come with me, boy!”

 

And then he wrapped his arms around Percy, his body glowing brightly.

 

“Look away!” Percy roared, closing his own eyes as the Titan exploded.

 

A searing pain was the last thing he felt before he felt nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big chapter (for this story, it's a bit over the average word count for the sequel) but I hope y'all enjoyed it! A lot of the 'important' characters who die, the 'old-breed' of the legion if you will, die either quickly or entirely off-screen, simply for the reason that in war, death is common, and so it wouldn't be addressed much, especially when we consider the mindsets of the characters who witness said deaths.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks after the Siege of Orthys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave a comment!

**_Percy_ **

****

Percy’s senses came back to him slowly. Where ever he was, he was partially submerged in water, and the rest of the place was sterile. It smelt like chlorine and rubbing alcohol. His body felt like it was wrapped in plastic, and all his nerves burned like crazy, but as far as he could tell, he was alive.

 

“I’m starting to think you actually enjoy visiting me, but you can’t figure out how to come by like a normal person,” Dustin Cole’s amused voice reached him. Percy cracked open an eye to see the doctor leaning over him.

 

“What’s up doc?” He rasped, his voice rough from disuse. “You look tired.”

 

“I’ve been working pretty tirelessly for the past two weeks,” the surgeon sighed, “there were a lot of casualties, even after you killed Krios. Good on you for that, by the way. The Senate went and gave you an _agnomen_. ‘Titanicus,’ they’re calling you officially.”

 

“Officially,” Percy repeated, “that means there’s an unofficial nickname.”

 

“The Legion’s been calling you ‘God-Killer,’” Dustin said, “a bit inaccurate, but no one’s corrected them so far.”

 

Percy tried to move, but Dustin placed his hands gently on his shoulders.

 

“What’s the damage?”

 

“You sure you want to know?” The son of Apollo asked. Percy glared at him, and he shrugged. “All right. You’ve got second degree burns all along your chest and legs, because the armour took most of the damage there, but your arms… there were third degree burns along your forearms and hands. It took a miracle to heal you properly, and even then, you might find your hands to be a bit stiff for a while. The water really helped, as did the unicorn horn shavings. My advice would be to stay submerged for an hour everyday now that you’re conscious. There’s also the scars. When Krios went boom, so did your sword. A shard of it hit your face, and another one buried in your leg”

 

“Show me,” Percy demanded. Dustin held up a mirror, and he let out a deep sigh. The scar was still pink and agitated, but it was already showing signs of fading towards the ends. It formed an _X_ -like pattern on his left cheek, not too large, but not insignificant either. “ _Mors_ exploded?”

 

“Completely destroyed, save for a few small chunks that buried themselves in you,” Dustin informed him, “your armour was almost fused together. We had to break it off you, so that’s not functional anymore either. The gauntlets were melded with your skin at parts, but it seemed to heal pretty well. All in all, you’re lucky to be alive, Percy. Krios didn’t kill you, but his death nearly did.”

 

“And the army? The one he led out?”

 

“Ah, that’s an interesting tale,” the doctor said, “Krios death wiped out a chunk of them, and more were killed when Jason stormed out of Orthys after seeing your body slam into the ground, and then Lupa’s pack of all things joined the fray. The rest of the legion barely had time to engage before the monsters were being routed.”

 

“So we won?”

 

“A Pyrrhic victory,”  Dustin nodded.

 

“Do you…” Percy trailed off before steeling himself, “do you have the butchers bill?”

 

“I do,” he nodded, “it’s not good, Percy.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“Seventy-one are dead, killed throughout the fighting. That includes all Centurions save for Jason, and the Praetors. Twenty-seven are crippled and will never fight again. There’s not a single legionary who wasn’t injured, but many of those were minor enough for the medics to be able to handle it.”

 

“Twenty percent of our forces dead,” Percy breathed, “a fifth of the legion, just… gone.”

 

“Several veterans have offered to re-join the service, but the Praetors…” Dustin trailed off as he realised what he had just revealed.

 

“Jason’s praetor, then?” Percy asked. The medic nodded, “who’s the other?” Dustin hesitated in answering. “Dustin, who’s the second Praetor?”

 

“It’s… it’s Reyna,” he said, “the legion raised Jason at Orthys, and Reyna was voted in three days ago.”

 

“Good, good,” Percy muttered, before smiling, “they deserve it.”

 

“You… didn’t want the position?” Dustin asked carefully.

 

“Gods no!” Percy laughed, “I’m content just being the Centurion of the Fourth, and all that entails. High Command wouldn’t suit me, I don’t think.”

 

“Ah, yes, about that,” Dustin muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Percy let out a groan.

 

“Gods be good, Dustin, you’re not being very forthcoming, are you?” Percy asked him, “you’re never this reserved, which means you’re worried how I’ll react to whatever news you have. Now, would you go and spit it out, or do I have to drag myself from this room and find it out myself?”

 

“Alright, alright, no need to get moody,” Dustin put his hands up in defeat. “No one really knows _why_ , but the Fourth elected to raise Leila as Centurion. She’s the _Princeps Posterior_ now.”

 

“That’s surprising,” Percy admitted, “but then again, I was gone for eight months, only to take command of the First during Orthys. That’s fine. She deserves it.”

 

“You’re not angry,” Dustin noted, “I’m honestly surprised.”

 

“Despite what the rumours say, I tend to have a pretty good hold on my emotions, Dustin,” Percy gave a hollow laugh, before pulling himself upright. He could feel the skin on his chest stretching with the movement, but it wasn’t painful. Well, it wasn’t _too_ painful. “Can you help me…?”  


“Oh, yes,” the medic moved to help him, up, and once he was out of the tub, he willed himself to dry, the water being absorbed into his body and easing some of the pain he felt. “That’s a neat trick.”

 

“I’m full of them,” Percy said, “where is everyone?”

 

“Jason and Reyna are meeting with the Senate right now,” Dustin told him, “the rest of the legion has been given a month for mourning and rest. Most of the funerals are over, but the Fourth refused to cremate Tony until you were conscious.”

 

“We’ll get right on that,” he muttered to himself, “where are my clothes?”

 

**_Jason_ **

 

When the doors to the Senate house flung open, Jason had risen to his feet, ready to scold whoever would interrupt a session without warning. The rebuke died in his throat when he saw Percy limping in the door. The other senators became deathly silent at the sight of Percy, his new scar marring his face, only adding to his intimidating nature.

 

Well, intimidating to most. Reyna was out of her seat and throwing herself at him within seconds, a hushed back and forth between the two unheard by everyone else. Jason let it last for several minutes before he cleared his throat.

 

“I’m happy to see you, Perce, I really am,” he said, “but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

 

“I’ve had two weeks to rest,” Percy waved his hand dismissively, before pulling it to his chest as it spasmed slightly, “oh, that wasn’t fun. I know I’m not really meant to be here, but I wanted to extend my congratulations to you. Besides, I always wanted to dramatically enter a senate meeting, and this gave me the perfect opportunity.”

 

“You idiot,” Jason laughed, but there was no malice in the statement. “I can see not much is going to be accomplished. We’ll adjourn until tomorrow.  If it’s an absolute necessity, bring it to me. Otherwise, have a good day, and we’ll see you all tomorrow.”

 

The senators rose, some calling thanks and blessings to Percy as they left. Reyna had attached herself to his hip, but Jason noticed that Percy was leaning on her slightly. She was likely helping him stay upright at the moment.

 

“You look pretty good for someone who took an exploding Titan at point blank range,” Jason told him, and Percy chuckled, which devolved into some coughing. “Are you sure you should be up?”

 

“Probably not,” Percy replied, “but I’m up, and I’m not quitting yet. Tony’s waited long enough to earn his peace, I think.”

 

“Ah, yes, that,” Jason was trying to think about how to tell Percy he’d lost the Fourth when his cousin laughed at him.

 

“I already know about Leila,” he said, “it’s not an issue. I’m just grateful they waited for me to wake up.”

 

“We kept his body preserved,” Reyna said from Percy’s side, “Jason, could you go get the Fourth ready for Tony’s funeral? It’ll take Percy and I a while to get there, so you should be ready by the time we arrive.”

 

“Of course,” he said with a tip of his head, “keep an eye out for Octavian. His rhetoric has been a bit… heated, lately. You scared some people with your display of power, Percy. He’s using that to his advantage.”

 

“Let him,” Percy scoffed, “I know where my loyalty stands. Worrying what other people think about me is a waste of time. I’ll see you soon, Jason.”

 

Jason smiled, before he began making his way through the winding streets of New Rome. The Fourth’s Castra was busy, with some of the new recruits being drilled by the veterans. Aidan, the son of Bellona who Percy considered a solid soldier, and a candidate for officer-ship at some point, was the first to greet him.

 

“Hail, Praetor Grace!” He called out, and the others came to a halt, turning a giving him a salute. Leila emerged from her office at the noise, blinking in surprise as she saw Jason.

 

“Praetor,” she greeted him “what brings you here?”  


“It’s time to put Tony to rest,” he told her, voice loud enough for the others to hear, “assemble on the Field of Mars and prepare his pyre.”  


“Respectfully, Praetor, we agreed to wait for Percy to wake,” Aidan said, but Leila shot him a look.

 

“I’m aware of that fact,” Jason told them, “but Percy’s not as fast as he used to be. It’ll take him some time to get to the Field, and I think he’d prefer if Tony was ready to be sent to the afterlife.”

 

“He’s awake?” Leila’s voice betrayed her true feelings. There was too much emotion.

 

“He is,” Jason confirmed, “and he’s on his way. Don’t let him down, _quartae cohortis_.”

 

“Aye sir!” They cried out, and the bustle began. The _probatios_ seemed confused, but it didn’t take long for them to be issued orders.

 

The Field of Mars had seen seventy funerals in two weeks, and the space where the bodies were burned were blackened and covered in a layer of charred wood and ashes. That didn’t stop the Fourth from building a large pyre for their centurion, a man who had led them for nine years with charm and grace. His body was carried out on a stretcher and was laid to rest atop the unlit pyre. The Fourth formed ranks and waited patiently for Percy to arrive.

 

Three minutes later, he did, still being supported by Reyna. But when he reached the edge of the cohort, he detached from her, limping his way passed them all, making his way to Tony’s body. Jason was standing next to Leila, and Reyna soon joined them, and where they were standing, they could hear everything he said. The others, unfortunately, could not.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said to the body, “I never wanted you—any of you—to die. My one hope was that you and Michaela would have been able to retire, get married, and have kids. You should’ve had a life, Tony, and the war took that from you. But I won’t forget what you did for me. You were good to me in a way that not many people were. You treated me with kindness and respect, and valued me for what I could do, not for who’s son I was. I hope that I can make you proud.”

 

And then he rose, covering the body with the oil that would be used to cremate the body. No one questioned why he was doing it instead of Leila. This was something deeply personal. There was no one else who could have done it. It was Percy’s responsibility, all the way. He limped back several steps, before he was handed a torch, which he threw onto the pyre. The flames erupted upwards and began consuming the pile of wood.

 

The Fourth watched wordlessly as their former Centurion was cremated, but the silence didn’t last. Jason didn’t know who started the _barritus_ , but it was done without command. This one was different than the one that had occurred at Orthys. It was a low murmur, closer to a wail than a war-cry, but it conveyed the message. Percy kept his eyes locked on the funeral pyre, watching as his mentor, the closest thing he had to an older brother, was consumed by the fire. He didn’t react when Reyna took his left hand in her own, nor did he move when Jason placed a hand on his shoulder. He just watched the fire.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyna has a private talk with her boyfriend, as the First Cohort tries to elect a Centurion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please leave comments!

**_Reyna_ **

****

“How are you feeling?” She asked Percy the moment they were alone. Maria’s items had been cleared out of the Praetor House within days of her death, all catalogued and given to her family. It was Reyna’s home, now, but there was very little in it that belonged to _her_.

 

“Physically, mentally, or emotionally?” Percy replied with a bitter chuckle. She winced. That didn’t bode well.

 

“Let’s try all three, why don’t we?”

 

“Physically, I feel like I ran naked through a fiery tornado,” he said pointed look at his chest, “it’s like I’ve been wrapped up in plastic. Everything feels crinkly.”

 

“Well maybe if you had _stayed_ with Dustin, he could’ve told you how to fix that,” she arched an eyebrow at him. Percy just grinned in response, a crooked flash of white teeth.

 

“Maybe he already did,” he said, “besides, even if he hadn’t, I would do the same thing. The baths, the river, and I are about to have a very close and intimate relationship. Hope you don’t mind sharing me.”

 

Reyna felt her cheeks flush at that. Despite _technically_ having been dating for nearly nine months now, she and Percy hadn’t gone much further than kissing, with his quest getting in the way of everything, and the whole keeping their relationship secret thing before that.

 

“You still with me?” Percy asked, his hand just barely hovering over her cheek. She leaned into it, before he pulled her into his chest. Despite the hiss of discomfort he let out, he still held her close. “I already told you this in my letters, but I really did miss you a ton. Just _being_ near you makes me happier, Reyna.”

 

“Me too, you dork,” she laughed, “but don’t think you’re in the clear yet. You’ve only told me how you feel physically. Keep going.”

 

“Whoa boy,” Percy sighed, collapsing backwards onto the couch. Only, he didn’t let go of her, and she let out a yelp as she went backwards with him, crashing into his lap. “Alright, so to be honest, I’m really confused.”

 

“About the Fourth?” She guessed. Percy nodded.

 

“I mean, part of me understands it,” he admitted, “I was gone for eight months—eight months where we were at war—but Tony had literally prepared me for this since the moment I arrived at camp. I spent almost all my time learning by his side, and then… nothing. They just replaced me with Leila.”

 

“To be honest, she was pretty surprised by it,” Reyna told him, “when the Fourth revealed their choice, there was a few minutes where she didn’t react. We almost thought she had shut down, but eventually she snapped out of it and accepted. _Everyone_ was surprised by the decision.”

 

“I mean, Leila’s a good leader—she’ll make a good Centurion, but…” Percy trailed off, and Reyna knew exactly what he wanted to, but wouldn’t, say.

 

“But she won’t be a great one. She won’t be _you_ ,” she finished for him, “so what will you do? Your time with Lupa counts—you could retire.”

 

She knew it was a stupid thing to say even before she said it, but it needed to be put out there. Retirement _was_ an option for Percy. Jason too, for that matter, but neither of them would take it, especially not when the Legion needed them now more than ever.

 

“Tell me about the other cohorts,” Percy murmured, chin resting on her shoulder.

 

“Nice try, but we’re not done,” she reminded him.

 

“I know,” he sighed, “but I do want to know. So tell me. Please?”

 

How she accomplished anything when Percy was around amazed her sometimes. She couldn’t even see his face, but she knew the puppy-dog eyes would be out.

 

“Fine,” she groaned, shifting so that she was facing him. She really, _really_ hoped that no one came into her house uninvited, because the scene would be pretty damning. She was straddling Percy as he reclined into a chair. It was a pretty telling image. “Gwen, unsurprisingly, succeeded Jason in the Fifth. She picked Dakota as her second. Leila, of course for the Fourth, with Aidan as her second, though it’ll probably be you know that you’re awake. Hank was confirmed for the Third, with Nathan as his second. I picked Larry to replace me, and he took Blake. The First still hasn’t selected a Centurion. It’s been a deadlock between Michael and Octavian.”

 

“Oh, jeez,” Percy muttered, pressing a kiss to the bottom of her jaw, “that’s not going to end well.”

 

“Focus, Percy,” she said as he pressed more kisses on her face. She swatted his hands away. “Focus. How are you? I know you and Tony were close…”

 

“He lost focus,” Percy said quietly, “he saw Michaela go down, and he just… lost it. I’ve never seen him fight so hard. He reached her before I did. An arrow killed him. It landed just right, avoiding all his armour and going right down into his heart. I didn’t think he was dead, I just thought he was in shock, but then I grabbed him, and… there was no resistance. He just fell back. I closed his eyes and that was it. I moved on. I had a mission.”

 

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” she pointed out, “I was with Vanessa when she… when she died. I’m not sure if it would have been better if I hadn’t. Either way, it was hard to deal with. I’ve had two weeks to cope. You haven’t.”

 

“Believe it or not, I have coped with it,” Percy gave another bitter laugh, “I knew there would be death during this war. I just didn’t think it would be _this_ extensive. We were caught off guard. It can’t happen again.”

 

“It won’t,” she assured him, “this war took _thousands_ of years to happen. The Legion won’t face a threat like this for generations. Who knows, maybe by the next time the legion goes to war, we’ll have been long forgotten, Percy. Just a footnote in history.”

 

“I don’t think so,” he said, “all the gods I’ve met over the years seem to be convinced that this generation is going to do something _big_. I just can’t figure out what that is.”

 

“You don’t think it was the war?” Reyna asked. “That seems like it would be a big thing.”

 

Percy shook his head, but instead of responding, he wrapped his arms around her and stood up. It took her a moment to regain her balance, wrapping her legs around his waist. She gave him an amused look.

 

“What are you doing?” She asked him. Percy smiled at her, but she could see how tired he really was.

 

“I need a nap,” he told her, genuinely catching her by surprise, “I’m bringing you with me. Unless you’ve got somewhere better to be?”

 

“Maybe I do,” she told him, and Percy huffed, “but it can wait. You do look like you need a nap.”

 

“I’m glad you agree with me, your highness,” he laughed. “Now I just need you to guide me to the bed.”

 

**XxXxX**

Percy sat with them for dinner that evening. Normally, he would have sat with the Fourth, but it had been Jason who told his cousin that they were eating together. Reyna didn’t complain—truth be told she didn’t want Percy sitting with the Fourth, not after the conversation they had earlier that day.

 

“We’re having a vote to expand the senate,” Jason was explaining to Percy, who had asked for an update on New Rome, “the people want more representation. Thirty new senators will be joining the ten. They’ll have a vote, but the ultimate authority still lies with the Praetors, and the votes of Centurions are weighted more than civilian votes.”

 

“That still gives them a power base,” Percy pointed out, “Five centurions against forty senators. Even with your help, that’s only seven.”

 

“Do you have a suggestion on how to fix that?” Reyna asked him, skewering a piece of meat onto her fork. She waved it around as she gesticulated, “because the senate won’t accept just throwing legionaries into the mix in order to balance things out. Especially now that they have more civilian oversight.”

 

“Well,” Percy drifted for a moment, but Reyna could see his mind racing behind his eyes. The moment they lit up was the moment she knew he had an answer. “Each Centurion picks a second already—a legionary they trust to take command if they’re not available, or otherwise incapacitated.”

 

“That’s right,” Reyna nodded, “but it’s not official.”

 

Jason, however, seemed to catch on to whatever it was that Percy had thought of.

 

“It’s not been an official position in nearly a thousand years, Perce,” he pointed out, “some would call it a relic from the old Empire.”

 

“The entire legion is a relic from the old Empire,” Percy shrugged, “besides, having an _optio_ legitimises the succession in a cohort—it was always standard for an _optio_ to, one way or another, succeed a Centurion. Makes transitions smoother.”

 

“Also prevents another _you_ from happening,” Reyna noted. “But it’s not a bad idea. If we can pass it.”

 

“You’re the Praetors,” Percy said, “it’s a military matter, the Senate has no say in it and you both know it. But I don’t want to force you into a decision. It’s just an idea. Do with it what you will.”

 

“Praetors!” Octavian’s nasally voice called out. He had always had a high-pitched voice, but his nose hadn’t healed properly after Percy broke it, leading to a rather distinct voice. “Do you have a moment?”

 

“Oh gods,” Jason sighed, turning to the Augur, “what can we do for you, Octavian?”

 

“Have you made a decision regarding the elections in the First?” He asked, a question that forced Michael out from his seat, “we’re anxiously awaiting a verdict.”

 

“I told you before, Octavian, it’s up to the First to decide for a Centurion. The cohort still has two weeks to make a decision. If, and only _if_ , a decision isn’t made by then will we get involved. Those are the rules.”

 

Reyna hadn’t payed attention to the legacy of Apollo. Instead, she watched Mikey, who had started towards them before pausing, staring at Percy for a moment before turning back to his cohort, walking between tables and talking with each member of the First while Octavian pleaded his case before them. Whatever he was saying, they seemed to approve. But he went to each and every one of them, and all of them responded with positivity. Had he just secured the Centurionship? That would be a major blow to Octavian’s pride if he lost it now. Part of Reyna hoped that would be the case.

 

“But, surely in these desperate times—” Octavian tried towards the end of his speech, but it was Michael who cut him off.

 

“Pardon the interruption, Praetors, but I believe I have a solution,” he said smoothly, “the First hasn’t been able to make a decision between myself or Octavian. That’s understandable. I’d like to offer a… tie-breaking candidate, to get things moving.”

 

“Go on,” Jason motioning Michael to continue when Octavian tried to protest.

 

“When Centurion Farmer died, the First almost broke,” Michael said, and there was a slight ripple from the Legion. It wasn’t well known that it had almost happened—the Second had a better idea due to their proximity to the First, but Percy had been quick in rallying them, so for the other cohorts, it had only been rumour and hearsay, “but there was a demigod who rallied us, and led us. He challenged Krios knowing that it could kill him, but he did it so save as many lives as he could. I nominate Percy Jackson, Son of Neptune, for the position of _Primus Pilate,_ Centurion of the First Cohort!”

 

_That_ elicited a response from the legion. Men and women shot to their feet as they cried out in protest. She spared a glance at Percy, who was rooted to his seat, surprise clear and present on his face, his mouth open like a fish’s. He hadn’t known this was coming then, as she had immediately suspected.

  
As the clamouring became louder, Jason became more and more frustrated. He grabbed Percy’s arm, and the two had a silent conversation. After a moment, they nodded at each other, and thunder boomed across the sky while lightning illuminated it. It was an explosion of light and sound, and the legion became quiet at it.

 

“That’s enough!” Jason called out, “take your seats, now!”

 

The order was obeyed at once.

 

“What you’re proposing is… different, in a way, Legionary Kahale. Legionary Jackson belongs to a separate cohort.”

 

“But it’s not without basis,” Michael defended, “in the past, Centurions were promoted up the ladder, and junior officers took commands in different cohorts. All this is, is a recognition of service. Legionary Jackson commanded the First in battle. He’s a renowned warrior and tactician, and he’s an exemplary officer. I asked the others of my cohort first. Do you wish to hold it to a vote?”

 

Reyna studied the crowd before them. There was a tension in the air, one of anticipation and excitement. Whatever decision they made now, it would reverberate for years to come, that much she knew. Jason knew it too, based on the contemplative look he had on his face.

 

“Praetors, surely you can’t mean to allow for this… this _blasphemy_ to occur?” Octavian asked, and she knew that was the moment the decision had been made, “command of the First should remain with the First!”

 

“I say we let it happen,” she leaned over to whisper in Jason’s ear. Her co-Praetor nodded, and rose.

 

“The First will hold a vote,” he declared, making a gesture, which led to the Fauns nearby rushing to go find the voting materials. “The candidates are as follows; Octavian Marcellus, Legacy of Apollo. Michael Kahale, Son of Venus,” Jason paused, “Percy Jackson, Son of Neptune.”

 

“I withdraw my candidacy!” Michael called out, “and support Legionary Jackson!”

 

That elicited a hushed response from the rest of the Legion as the Fauns came scrambling back with the voting chips and the measure, the First rose, and waited to be handed one of each of the chips. A square and a circle. They would represent a candidate.

 

“Very well,” Jason said, “Octavian will be represented by the square marker. Percy by the circular marker. Vote wisely, First Cohort.”

 

There was a large pot placed at the foot of the Praetor’s table, and each member of the First shuffled up, throwing a marker in. No one save the legionaries of the First themselves knew how the vote would go. The process took forty minutes, with the line moving slower than she thought it would. When it was done, the fauns carried the pot up to the table, and placed a piece of wood with several sticks on it. Each marker would be placed on those sticks, and that would determine the vote. They began counting them. It didn’t take long for the winner to become obvious.

 

“The First has made it’s decision,” she said, rising from her seat, with Jason mirroring the motion. She kept her face blank as she continued, despite wanting to grin like a fool. “With fifty of the fifty-one votes, the First has elected Percy Jackson as their new Centurion,” she turned to her boyfriend, “ _Primus Pilus_ —join your cohort.”

 

“By your command, Praetor,” Percy gave a stiff bow and a grin, before heading down to join his new Cohort. He was still limping slightly but after their nap together, Percy had slinked into the river, and soaked it in for several hours. He had emerged moving much more smoothly than before.

 

The First clapped his back as he joined them, and he greeted them all by name. That was a big deal, especially for an outsider like Percy. That he knew them all spoke volumes about his potential as a centurion. Reyna was impressed. It had taken her a few months to learn _and_ remember the names of everyone in her cohort, and here was Percy, coming from a _different_ one, and he already knew who they were.

 

The rest of the dinner flew by, with an excited buzz in the air from everywhere save the Fourth. They seemed to have realised what electing Leila had done, and now they had lost their best asset. Reyna found she couldn’t pity them too much. They had made their bed, and now they were being forced to lay in it. Leila in particular seemed shocked by the incident, and Reyna wasn’t the only to notice it. At the end of dinner, Percy rose and made his way over towards Leila, shaking her hand and whispering something into her ear.

 

For a millisecond, Reyna felt a pang of jealousy. Only for a millisecond. She knew that she was Percy’s and Percy was hers, so she knew not to worry. But she also knew that Leila had _very_ strong feelings for Percy, feelings that she didn’t know if they had disappeared or not. While Percy had been clueless when they were younger, that was no longer the case. Reyna had a very long and awkward conversation with him about it when they started dating, listing the girls that she knew liked him, and the things they often did when around him. He had blinked in surprise, but understood, and she noticed almost instantly the change in him. There were certain things he didn’t reciprocate anymore. Certain people he became slightly more professional with. It made her feel better, which was why when he came by with a list of guys who liked _her_ , and what they did around her, she didn’t freak out, and instead, like Percy had, calmly listened, and then did what she thought was necessary when interacting with them.

 

It was why she and Percy worked so well together. She knew it was part of Percy’s many features that she was slowly falling in love with.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy and Leila have a heart to heart, and a senate meeting brings up a surprising accusation.

**_Percy_ **

****

“Congratulations,” Leila said awkwardly. They were in the Garden of Bacchus, standing across from each other. “First Cohort. Very impressive.”

 

“Did you know the last conversation I had with Tony was here?” Percy asked her. “Right where we’re standing. We talked about a few different things. School was one of them. He was planning on retiring after Orthys, going to college, and getting a job as a teacher. He was going to propose to Michaela, and they were going to have a life together. A family together.”

 

“I… I didn’t know,” Leila admitted. Percy was aware of that. One of the things the two had talked about was Leila herself. He told her as much. “Oh, uhm… what exactly about?”

 

“How you handle emotional distress was one of the things that came up,” he told her pointedly, “as well as how you handle jealousy. From what I understand, you made quite the scene when the Fourth returned from its first campaign. At least you didn’t hit anyone this time. Once was enough, I think.”

 

“Percy—” she tried to speak.

 

“I’m not done talking, Leila,” he cut her off, and the sharpness in his tone surprised him. This was a repeat of that incident, nearly three years ago, after the Hunters visited. But this wasn’t supposed to be a rebuke. He softened his tone before continuing. “It’s just… Leila, I never saw you as anything other than a friend. You were my first friend in the cohort. In the Legion, really, but that’s all you ever were. A friend. I’ve thought about it dozens of times, I can’t remember ever giving you an indication otherwise.”

  
“I should have seen the signs sooner,” he sighed, “but I’m a bit oblivious with the whole emotions thing. Lupa prepared me for a lot, but that wasn’t one of them. But Reyna? Gods, I think I fell for her the moment I saw her. Didn’t admit it to myself for a while, but that’s the truth. You always were, and always will be, my friend. But nothing more. I need you to understand that now more than ever.”

 

“If…if Reyna hadn’t been in the picture,” Leila began softly, “if it had just been me…”

 

“I don’t think anything would have changed,” Percy admitted, “when I’m commanding soldiers, when I’m leading others in battle, I feel whole. Complete. The only other time I feel like that is when I’m with Reyna. Some people have a connection that transcends the physical. Reyna… I honestly believe that we’re meant for each other. We were always going to end up together, one way or another. I can’t see it happening another way. Sooner or later… you get the point. I know this mustn’t be fun for you, but you need to hear it from me. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She asked him, and gods, he hated the absolute brokenness he saw in her eyes.

 

“Because I knew how you would react,” he admitted, “I knew it would have been a violent reaction. Most likely against Reyna, and that was something I didn’t want to happen. And because Reyna and I didn’t want it to be common knowledge. The Praetors and our centurions knew, and that was it. I didn’t even tell _Jason_. But Leila, you didn’t _need_ to know. It was something private. Something personal. We’re friends, but you don’t share everything with me, and I don’t share everything with you.”

 

“I was never dating anybody!” Leila countered. Percy pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“No, you weren’t,” he agreed, “but I was, and I wanted as little people as possible to know. I just—look, the war is won, but it isn’t over. Do you understand? This was only one part of it. Other wars will come, and Reyna will be leading the Legion along with Jason. You and I will be helping them, but I can’t spend the rest of my time wondering if you’re going to be spiteful towards our Praetor over my relationship with her. If it’s going to cause problems, we need to resolve it, _now_.”

 

“You think I’d be childish enough to do that?” She asked him angrily.

 

“Yes,” he didn’t even blink as he responded, didn’t even hesitate. “Leila, you’re my friend, and I love you, but you are overly emotional. You get angered easily, and sometimes, you don’t think before you act. This could entirely escalate into something no one wants it to be. That’s why I’m talking to you now and in private. This is the time to unload it all. Hit me, if you want. Just… let it end here.”

 

“I’m not going to hit you, idiot,” Leila sighed, “you’re still hurt.”

 

“I’m a big boy,” he shrugged, “I can handle it. So go ahead. Tear into me. This is the only chance you get, because the moment we leave this garden, I’m the _Primus Pilus_ , and you’re the _Princeps Posterior_. I’ll outrank you.”

 

“I’ve liked you since we were twelve, Percy,” she said, “almost as soon as I met you. I’m sure you can see the irony in that. And over time, I think it became love. I was _always_ there for you. When you needed me, I was by your side, without hesitation. When others in the Fourth questioned you, _I_ defended you. When you injured yourself, I helped you get better. When you needed to talk, I was there to listen. I did _everything_ you needed me to, and for the most part, you did the same for me. But you didn’t _trust_ me enough to tell me that you had a girlfriend. You didn’t trust me to be an adult about it, and instead, you let me keep having that spark of hope that we could be something. _That_ is why I’m mad.”

 

Leila gave a bitter chuckle.

 

“Percy, I have _always_ been your friend. If we had just talked, I would have understood. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have understood,” she told him, poking him in the chest, “believe it or not, girls aren’t emotional wrecks that go on the attack whenever they’re upset. Sure, I may have gotten upset, but I would have _moved on_. You, and Reyna, didn’t give me that chance. You took that option away. I’ve accepted it. I’ve had months to accept it. It won’t cause any issues, but… I think that for now, we should keep our… relationship strictly professional. I’m not sure we can be friends right now.”

 

“I understand,” he sighed, “if that’s what you want, then that’s what I’ll give you. Take the time you need. When you’re willing to try at being friends again, I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, hesitating for a moment, “would a hug be too much?”

 

Percy just laughed and held his arms open. Leila slipped inside his reach, wrapping her arms around him. Percy held her tightly for a moment, before letting her go.

 

“When you’re ready,” he said, “we’ll talk.”

 

**XxXxX**

It didn’t take long for business as usual to begin again. Percy attended two senate meetings in as many weeks, and between the first and the second, the numbers exploded. They went from fifteen senators to fifty. Ten from the legion, the Centurions and their Optios, and forty from New Rome. Each senator represented around one hundred of the New Romans, and they were determined to do their job incredibly well.

 

Percy honestly didn’t pay too much attention during senate meetings. Normally, he could get away with just sitting there and voting in favour of whatever Jason or Reyna proposed, but sometimes, he would be forced to listen and evaluate what the civilian senators were saying and proposing. Sometimes, it was absurd.

 

“You want to… you want to reveal ourselves to the mortal world?” Jason asked Senator Marlow slowly. “As demigods?”

 

“Yes,” the woman repeated proudly. She was a clearsighted mortal, but her family had been in New Rome for several generations. Her great-great-grandfather had fought for the Legion during the Spanish-American War. No one in her family had done so since. “Mortals are understanding. They’d let us slot right into society!”

 

“Is… is she serious?” Michael asked, leaning from behind Percy, “because I can’t tell if she is or not.”

 

“Do you have a comment, Senator Kahale?” Reyna asked, and Michael stiffened, his face becoming red, “if not, refrain from speaking while another is.”

 

“My apologies, Praetor,” He said, “it won’t happen again.”

 

“Make sure it doesn’t,” she warned him, “continue, Senator Marlow.”

 

“There would be an adjustment period, of course,” the senator continued, shooting Michael a glare. It quickly vanished when Percy shifted his face from neutral to annoyed, the warning clear without having to be spoken, “and perhaps some would try something, but I truly believe we would be accepted in the end.”

 

“Respectfully, Senator, that is an absolutely horrible idea,” Larry Byrd of the Second spoke up, beating Percy to the punch, “for two main reasons. Reason one, it is not up to _us_ to decide if we reveal our world. That would be the remit of the Gods themselves. Reason two, mortals are _not_ understanding. Mortals are easily manipulated, and easily provoked. I think you have forgotten that, because you grew up _here_. Not all of us were so fortunate, so we experienced what happens when mortals do not understand.”

 

Larry was a son of Trivia, and from the little Percy knew, it had caused some issues growing up. His aunt, a devout Catholic, had brought a priest in to exorcise him because of the magic he couldn’t control, thinking it was the work of the devil. It hadn’t ended well for the priest. That had gotten Larry sent to what was essentially a Catholic rehab, before his father sent him to New Rome. Understandably, he wasn’t a huge fan of mortals.

 

“My fellow Centurion is correct,” Percy added, leaning forward in his seat, “there are good mortals, I don’t question that, but the majority of them are followers, and so if someone charismatic enough can rally them, they tend to follow without much question. All revealing ourselves would do is anger the gods and frighten the mortals. While I’m sure you proposed this with the best intentions, my vote, and I believe many other votes, will be a no.”

 

“Then perhaps we should vote,” Marlow stated primly, “and you’ll see that you are _wrong_.”

 

Oh, now Percy _really_ didn’t like her. To make such a bold statement meant she was either incredibly delusional, or incredibly stupid. He didn’t know which one was worse.

 

“It won’t be going to a vote,” Jason said, after a hushed conversation with Reyna, “my fellow Praetor and I agree that the idea is a flawed one. We’re vetoing it.”

 

“You can’t—” Marlow began, but thunder rumbled slightly. Jason blinked in surprise, and turned to Percy.

 

“Wasn’t me,” he said with a shrug, before pointing up, “might be the King of the Gods, reminding us that the Praetor’s word is law? Who knows.”

 

“Percy…” Reyna said quietly.

 

“I’m being honest,” he said, “it really wasn’t me.”

 

“Praetors, this is clearly an attempt by the son of Neptune to undermine the authority of the senate!” Marlow exclaimed, and a hush settled across the room.

 

“Excuse me?” Percy said slowly. Marlow stared at him with far too much smugness for his comfort.

 

“Everyone knows that you’re a power-monger, _Primus Pilus_ ,” Marlow sneered the word, “first you oppose this measure, and then another, and then another. Soon, you’ll be threatening us all with storms and earthquakes, and all of New Rome will be under your thumb. Just like you want!”

 

“I—is she serious?” Percy asked aloud, turning to Larry and the other Centurions. They were all as bewildered as he was.

 

“You’re accusing Percy Jackson, the First Centurion of the Legion, of what, exactly, Senator?” Jason asked, “treason? If so, that’s an incredibly bold, and incredibly _stupid_ accusation.”

 

“Is it?” Marlow challenged, “he was a mere legionary in the Fourth Cohort, and now he is the most powerful officer after you two? Am I the only one who sees the threat there?”

 

“If you knew anything about the legion,” another senator, a daughter of Venus named Vanessa

Grey, and a veteran of the legion, laughed “you would know that they don’t promote someone they don’t want, Marlow. The First chose to elevate a renowned warrior, and a commander who led them in battle. How exactly do you think he earned the _agnomen_ of ‘Titanicus?’ I’d suggest you retract your statement and apologise to the Centurion before you make another stupid comment.”

 

There were murmurs of agreement from the other senators, but Marlow refused to back down.

 

“Praetor Grace, you _must_ see the threat that the son of Neptune presents!” She pleaded directly to his cousin, “he is a threat to your rule!”

 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Jason said calmly, “and I’m going to adjourn this session of the senate until tomorrow. Senator Marlow, you’ll be coming to the Principia at five o’clock, sharp. We _will_ be talking there. Am I understood?”

 

For some reason, Marlow seemed to think this was a victory on her part. She bowed before Jason.

 

“By your command, Praetor Grace,” she said, shooting a smirk at Percy. He kept his face blank, and it did throw her off for a second, before she resumed her smug persona.

 

They filed out of the senate house, Percy and the other legion members taking a side exit while the civilians took the main exit. None of the other centurions spoke for a while, but they could hear the civilians gossiping about what had just happened. By the end of the day, most of New Rome would know about the confrontation.

 

“Did that really just happen?” Hank Green asked them, but no one responded.

 

“You okay, Percy?” Michael asked him. He stopped in his tracks, and the others ceased moving without command.

 

“I’m fine,” he said, “go tell the cohort what happened, they’ll want to know. I’d advise the rest of you do the same. Keep it neutral, we don’t need any issues with the city.”

 

“And you?” Gwen asked him with a pointed look.

 

“I need to go to Temple hill,” he said, “to pray to the gods, and… ask… the augur for some advice.”

 

“Be careful,” Leila warned him. Percy gave her a small smile before turning. It had been some time since he visited his father’s shrine. It would do him some good to do so.

 

**XxXxX**

“ _Primus Pilus_!” Octavian greeted him glibly. There were several of his lackeys standing around, but none of them seemed particularly confident now that Percy was here. None of them were legionaries—they were all counted among the staff of the temple, and thus, were technically outside his authority. That wouldn’t stop him.

 

“Clear the room,” he ordered, “I need to speak with the augur in private.”

 

“You can’t order us!” One of them tried. Percy closed his eyes and took a deep breath in.

 

“Let me repeat myself once,” he said carefully, “and only once. Clear. The. Room.”

 

The same boy opened his mouth to speak again, but when Percy turned to face him, he paled. Within moments, he was alone in the temple with Octavian. Before the Augur could speak, Percy waved his hand, and a strong gust of wind blew in, slamming the large doors closed. Now they were well and truly alone.

 

“The most interesting thing happened moments ago,” Percy said to Octavian, who, if possible, had become paler. “I just had a senator—one of the new ones—accuse me of treason. And a _mortal_ one at that. You wouldn’t happen to know _why_ that happened would you?”

 

It was a rhetorical question, and they both knew it. In the two weeks since Percy had become First Centurion, Octavian’s slandering campaign had only increased. The augur was too smart to be caught openly preaching against him, but his minions could be found all over the city.

 

“I—no, not at all, Centurion,” Octavian stammered, “I can’t begin to imagine why someone would do something so awful!”

 

He was nervous—no, Percy realised, he was terrified. He was genuinely worried that Percy was about to attack him. Then again he hadn’t done anything that indicated otherwise. They were locked in the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, with only the gods as a witness.

 

“In fact, I was just speaking about how marvellous of a _Primus Pilus_ you are,” Octavian continued, “you’ve truly done a wonderful job with the mess you inherited from the war! You make the legion proud, Centurion Jackson, and I can’t think of a better man to lead us! I mean, lead the First, because obviously the Praetors lead the Legion and—”

 

“You keep speaking, Octavian,” Percy interrupted, “do I look as if I’m listening?”

 

“Not… not particularly,” the augur admitted, “but I was slightly hoping you were because then you wouldn’t—ach!”

 

Percy had crossed the gap between them in a second, pinning Octavian to the base of Jupiter’s statue.

 

“You listen to me _very, very_ carefully, Octavian,” Percy hissed in his ear, “I’m not going to kill you. But I can make you wish for death. I’ll beat you bloody on the field of Mars, and just when you’ve healed, I’ll do it again. Everytime one of your cronies brings a motion forward in the senate, I’ll fight it with everything I have. Anytime you issue a reading, I’ll challenge it, requesting it be done again, as is my right as a Centurion. Unless… we come to an accord, here and now.”

 

He relaxed his grip on Octavian’s throat ever so slightly, allowing the augur to get more air in his lungs.

 

“What… what accord?” he rasped, his face no longer blue.

 

“The smear campaign against me, against the Praetors, it all stops. Your minions will shut their mouths. If I ever catch one of them speaking against an officer in the legion, I’ll beat them myself,” he told him, “ _you_ will stop trying to accumulate power. You’re the augur, nothing more, and even then, you _can_ be replaced. I know of at least three other children of Apollo who have the same ability you do, who can be invested in the role you have. You’re not invaluable. You _are_ replaceable. Do you understand?”

 

“Y-yes,” Octavian managed to get out, and Percy’s nose wrinkled as he realised the augur had wet himself.

 

“This isn’t a conversation we’ll be having more than once,” Percy warned, “if you renege on the terms, I’ll kill you myself, and next time, I won’t even close the doors behind me. Understood?”

 

“You… you’re not going to make me swear on the Black Stone?” Octavian asked in surprise. Percy gave him a bloodthirsty grin.

 

“No,” he said simply, “because you’re not nearly stupid enough to challenge me anymore. Unless you’ve forgotten, Octavian, I killed a _Titan_. I think the gods would forgive me if I snapped your scrawny little neck. But not yet. Only if you go back on our deal.”

 

Octavian nodded violently, and Percy released him. He fell to the ground and began taking deep breaths.

 

“Clean yourself up,” he spat at him, “no one needs to see this.”


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**_Jason_ **

****

Senator Marlow arrived exactly on time to the Principia. Formerly known as the Praetorium, they had changed the name days after the Battle of Orthys to bring it closer to the times of the Roman Legions, when the Principia would be the centre of any _castra_. Jason didn’t particularly care for the name change, but it was done, so here they were.

 

Reyna’s two automaton dogs, Aurum and Argentum, gifts from her mother when she became Praetor, slinked around in the background, not willing to get too close. It seemed that even automaton dogs could recognise Lupa as an apex predator. Jason had requested her presence for the meeting—worded it quite politely and everything, and he was still surprised that she showed up. He was even more surprised that she would lounge in a chair in her human form, looking more like a mortal model than the mother of Rome. Lupa’s participation had come with one odd request.

 

“Don’t tell her who I am,” she had said as she swept into the room, “let her believe me to be some mortal witness. Pretend I am not here.”

 

He had exchanged looks with Reyna, but they trusted the wolf-goddess, so they obeyed. When Marlow was escorted in by two messengers, both children of Mercury, and both members of the First, she looked very unnerved. When Neither praetors explained who the woman sitting across from her was, she seemed insulted. Jason knew that Reyna didn’t like this woman already for what she had said about Percy. By the Black Stone, _he_ didn’t like her for what she had said, but his dislike grew even more that she couldn’t even recognise _Lupa_ , of all people.

 

“Thank you for granting me this audience, Praetor Grace,” Marlow gave him a sly smile, as if there were some secret between the two of them. It was also an insult of omission, that she didn’t address Reyna.

 

“You weren’t _granted_ an audience, Senator,” Jason told her sharply, and she blinked in surprise. “You were _summoned_ to explain yourself. You made several comments today that I not only found distasteful, but unfounded and entirely inappropriate. Instead of humiliating you in front of the other senators, I wished for this rebuttal to be in private.”

 

“Surely you cannot be serious?” Marlow asked him, “everyone knows that Jackson is building a powerbase around himself! He has ties to all cohorts, even your own! He is accumulating power in a bid to declare himself Rex—a king!”

 

Lupa snorted loudly at that, and Marlow shot her a glare. The wolf-goddess didn’t even shift, giving the senator a lazy look.

 

“You are aware that Lady Lupa raised Perseus, correct?” she asked Marlow. For the first time, the senator’s veneer of control cracked. “And that you are insinuating the child she raised is plotting what? Treason? That’s a very bold claim. I’m sure Lupa would love to hear it.”

 

“I—it—clearly, perhaps, a mistake was made?” Marlow tried, “perhaps Jackson fooled Lady Lupa, made her believe that he was something better than he truly is! His father is _Neptune_ , for Jupiter’s sake! He’s not even part of the Capitoline Triad!”

 

“I do not make mistakes of that magnitude, Senator Marlow,” Lupa growled, and Jason absolutely _loved_ the look of fear that fell across Marlow’s face. “Clear-sighted mortal or demigod, it matters little—no one should be foolish enough to insult an Olympian, especially not one like Neptune. And to further imply that _I_ would allow a traitor to come to New Rome? In the two thousand years since this legion was founded, do you know how many of the demigods that I trained turned against Olympus, Senator? None. _Demigods_ understand loyalty. Do you?”

 

“La-lady Lupa!” Marlow breathed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was you!”

 

“And that was your first mistake,” Lupa told her. Bones cracked as her body shifted, and the beautiful woman was replaced by a wolf as tall as Jason, and twice as wide. “ _You were elected simply because no one else in your district ran, senator. Percy Jackson, Son of Neptune, MY child, was raised by a cohort he led in war._ ”

 

Lupa prowled forward while Marlow backed up into a pillar. She looked at Jason and Reyna, her eyes pleading for help, but it was far too late for her. This was Lupa’s court now.

 

“ _Tomorrow, when the Senate reconvenes, you will apologise to Percy, the Praetors, and everyone else who you insulted by implying that he is disloyal,_ ” Lupa informed her, “ _and then you will resign from the senate. Someone else will be chosen from your district, at the discretion of the Praetors, and they will represent your—their—people. Am I understood, Miss Marlow?_ ”

 

“Y-y-y-yes, Lady Lupa,” Marlow stammered out.

 

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Lupa’s maw opened, mimicking a grin in the most disturbing way possible. It resembled Percy’s grin, when he was _really_ mad. More than once, his cousin had been called lupine, and Jason had never fully appreciated why until now. It made sense, to be honest, but he had never thought about it much. “ _Then I am not needed here anymore._ ”

 

After Lupa loped out, Jason let Marlow regain her composure, before speaking again.

 

“As you can see, I am not the only one upset with your behaviour,” he told her, and despite his anger at her words, he did feel bad for her. Lupa was as intimidating as they get, and for someone who had never dealt with her before, Marlow was a quivering mess, “the only difference is that I cannot kill you without cause. Lupa can. Remember that next time you wish to imply that my _cousin_ is a traitor. You can show yourself out, Miss Marlow. I expect your letter of resignation tomorrow before the Senate meeting.”

 

Marlow just gave a shaky nod before all but rushing out of the Principia. Jason and Reyna watched her go, a comfortable silence settling between the two.

 

“Gods, what a bitch,” Reyna said after a moment. Jason stared at her for a second before bursting into laughter.

 

“I mean, you’re not wrong,” he said once he regained his composure, “I’m just amazed you didn’t say it sooner. Or _to_ her.”

 

“I can control myself fine enough, Jason,” his Co-Praetor said with a pointed look, “I’m not some rage-monster with no self-control.”

 

“I wasn’t implying that you were,” he said, raising his hands in defence, “gods know I wanted to say it to her. Why does everyone think that Percy and I don’t get along? That we’re rivals?”

 

“Because you’re so alike, they can’t see you getting along,” Reyna said, “but where it counts, you’re so different. Do you know why the legion chose to raise you instead of Percy?”

 

“Son of Jupiter?” He guessed. Jason had thought about it a lot since being raised. All he had done was destroy Saturn’s Throne. Percy had fought and killed a Titan. Yes, what he had done was arguably more important, but Percy’s achievement was more impressive. By all accounts, it should have been Percy who became Praetor. “And the fact that Percy was nearly killed in the blast?”

 

“Well, partially,” Reyna conceded, “but the truth is, you’re more open than Percy. Both of you can be approached for help, but where you would help because it’s the right thing to do, Percy see’s the advantage of having someone in his debt.”

 

“That… that can’t be right,” Jason frowned, “he’s better than that.”

 

“You’re right,” she nodded, “he is. But he’s not stupid, either. You help people and don’t expect anything in return. Percy counts on the favour being paid back one day. I know he’s told you about his childhood before Lupa. He’s… cautious, I guess is the best way to put it. Don’t mistake this as Percy power-building—most of the favours he was owed went towards helping the legion, but some went towards _you_.”

 

“What?” He blinked, “what do you mean?”

 

“Who was the first cohort to call you Praetor?” Reyna asked him with a pointed look. Jason closed his eyes as his mind wandered back to that day on Orthys.

 

“The Third,” he recalled, “Hank was the one to start the cry, actually.”

 

“Do you remember the incident with Hank and the Fourth? When he freaked out and punched Aidan in the face?” Reyna reminded him, “and Percy stepped in between them and deescalated the whole situation, saving Hank from a hell of a beating?”

 

Jason _did_ remember. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Aidan had said something that triggered a memory in Hank, and his fight or flight instincts kicked in, choosing fight. Jason hadn’t even seen Percy move before he was in between the rapidly approaching group of Fourth Legionaries, stopping them before it could get worse. Jason hadn’t heard what was said, but Hank and Aidan had shaken hands afterwards, and that was the end of it.

 

“You’re saying Percy called in a favour for that?”

 

“I honestly don’t know,” Reyna admitted, “he won’t tell me if he nudged it along or if it happened naturally, but my theory is that he _chose_ you for the Praetorship. He doesn’t want it, he never has, but you’re suited for it in a way that no one else is, and Percy understands that.”

 

“I hate how selfless he can be at times,” Jason sighed, “I’ll have to talk to him soon.”

 

“He’d enjoy that,” she said. A knock at the door interrupted them as one of their messengers poked their heads in.

 

“Sorry for interrupting, Praetors,” She said, “but the Augur is requesting a meeting with the two of you. He seems… subdued.”

 

Jason exchanged a glance with Reyna.

 

“Send him in then,” she ordered, “let’s see what he wants.”

 

The first thing Jason noticed was that Octavian was glancing around the room as he entered, almost as if he expected to be attacked. The second thing was the redness of his throat. Specifically, the _hand shaped_ marks on it. Jason sighed. Percy hadn’t been idle, it seemed.

 

“Praetors,” he said, giving a short, shaky bow, “there’s… I’ve had a reading. It is a troubling one.”

 

“I swear by all the gods, Octavian, if this is some attempt to have someone exiled…” Jason began, but the augur was quick to defend himself.

 

“It’s not!” He said, “it’s… it’s the opposite, in fact. There is a recruit coming. I don’t know when, and I don’t know why, but she is coming here.”

 

“And what’s so troubling about that?” Reyna asked him with a frown, “you’ve seen the coming of recruits before.”  


“I have,” Octavian agreed, “but this one is different. I was reading the stuffing’s when the first sign appeared, so I went to look into more when… I pulled _actual_ intestines out of a stuffed animal. It shouldn’t have been possible.”

 

“You did what now?” Jason asked before rising from his seat, “are they still at the temple?”

 

“Yes,” Octavian said, “I have closed it off until further notice. I checked all the records before coming here, it has never happened before. Not with stuffed animals.”

 

“Go deal with this,” Reyna told him, “I’ll hold down the fort here, make sure everything keeps running smoothly.”

 

“Thank you,” he said, rising from his seat and following Octavian out. They walked for several minutes in silence before he felt the urge to speak. “I see Percy payed you a visit.”

 

Octavian flinched, but continued walking silently.

 

“The… the _Primus Pilus_  and I have come to an accord,” he said carefully, “that is all.”

 

Jason just hummed in response. If Percy felt it necessary to act, Jason wasn’t particularly interested in stopping him. Anything further than marks, however, and he would have been forced to intervene. His father’s temple was blocked off by several of Octavian’s assistants, but they parted as the two approached, some tipping their heads to Jason.

 

Near Octavian’s workstation, tossed onto the floor most likely in a panic, was, as the augur said, a teddy-bear with bloody intestines coming out of it. Jason sighed, looking up at his father’s looming statue, as if it would give him some sort of guidance. It would be pointless. It was a statue.

 

“Alright,” he said, “let’s get this figured out.”

 

**XxXxX**

**_Percy_ **

****

“What an ugly scar,” Lupa said when he arrived to visit her, “I absolutely adore it.”

 

“What an odd greeting,” he responded with, but didn’t complain when she grabbed his cheeks to study him closer. “Reyna says it makes me look rugged.”

 

“Perhaps,” The goddess conceded, “but she is your beloved. She thinks everything about you is handsome.”

 

“It’ll fade with time,” he said, “it will always be there, but it won’t be as prevalent.”

 

“Romulus had a similar scar,” she told him, tracing it with her finger, “his was earned fighting his brother, of course, not a Titan.”

 

She let out a deep sigh.

 

“Oh, Romulus and Remus. They were my pride and joy, and then they turned on each other over something as simple as a wall,” Lupa was monologuing, but Percy always enjoyed what she had to say. “But Romulus learnt the lesson of the wild. Nothing matters but survival. Heed me on this, Percy—if you wish to grow wise, learn why brothers betray brothers.”

 

“Rather ominous, Mother Lupa,” Percy said, “you aren’t expecting a civil war, are you?”

 

“No, no, not at all,” she said with an amused huff, “I simply want you to grow into the man you are becoming. You misheard me. Romulus and Remus _were_ my pride and joy. But you have exceeded them in every way, and you are a better man than either of them ever was. The Legion is not your home, Percy. Rome is. Never forget that. You can serve Rome without serving in the legion.”

 

“I know,” he said with a weary grin, “but you raised me to fight. So that’s what I’ll do, for as long as I need to. After that? I can retire, and watch the sun rise on a grateful Rome.”

 

Lupa arched an eyebrow at him, and Percy shrugged in response. Her head cocked to the side, and a grin spread across her face.

 

“A new arrival at camp,” she said, “Reyna is praying for me to, quote ‘please give me back my _Primus Pilus_.’”

 

“Ah, what a possessive girl,” Percy laughed, “lovely, isn’t she?”

 

“I will take your word for it, my boy,” Lupa replied, “now get going. You do not want to set a bad example for the new recruit.”

 

Percy gave her a kiss on the cheek before hopping on Blackjack. The Pegasus took off into the air.

 

_So boss,_ he asked, _back to camp?_

 

“Yeah, buddy,” Percy said, “looks like I’ve got someone I need to meet.”

 

_Oooh, new friends?_

 

“Maybe,” he conceded, “more likely fresh meat.”

 

_You’re such a pessimist,_ Blackjack complained, _but you do get me killer donuts, so I guess it evens out. I can be optimistic enough for both of us._

 

“Sure, pal,” Percy laughed as Blackjack landed, galloping for nearly fifty yards before slowing down.

 

Percy didn’t wait for Blackjack to stop running, instead sliding off his side and rolling forwards, popping up in front of the First. The Pegasus flew off, laughing the whole time.

 

“Show off,” Michael grinned at him. Percy responded with one in kind.

 

“So who’s the newbie?” He asked. His Optio shrugged.

 

“Praetors wouldn’t say. We’ll see soon enough, I suppose,” he said.

 

“So we will,” Percy nodded, “so we will.”

 

Moments later, Jason and Reyna came out with a small girl in tow. She looked to be twelve or thirteen, and not at all like she belonged in the Legion. Still, looks betrayed people, and for all Percy knew, he was staring at the most brutal killer in the world. She was tiny compared to Jason, and even Reyna dwarfed her. She studied the Legion with brilliantly golden eyes, and Percy felt them settle on him for several moments. He held her gaze, and she broke first, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she realised he had caught her staring.

 

“This is an auspicious day!” Octavian declared. Percy watched him closely, searching for double meaning in his words, but he couldn’t find any. Either the Augur had gotten harder to read, which Percy doubted, or he was being honest… which Percy also doubted. It left him in a bit of a pickle. “For the first time in thirteen hundred years, A child of Jupiter, Neptune _and_ Pluto are serving in the legion at the same time!”  


Percy’s gaze went straight back to the girl, and he knew he wasn’t the only one, judging from the ripple of murmurs from the legion.

 

“Hazel Levesque is in need of a Cohort!” Reyna called out, but Percy barely heard her, focusing on the tiny girl at the head of the legion. A child of Pluto… they were often omens of bad times to come, but the girl before him didn’t look like she could be the harbinger of anything but hugs and flowers. Percy had read the histories of the Legion. The last time a Child of Pluto had been _in_ the legion was thirteen hundred years ago. It was the first, and the last, time it had happened. To have all three together once more? Percy wasn’t sure what it meant.

 

He had been so deep in thought that he completely missed Gwen stepping forward and claiming her for the Fifth. It was only when Michael nudged him that he snapped back to attention, watching silently as Jason officially handed her—Hazel, he told himself—to the Fifth. She would be given her tablet and become a _probatio_ of the Fifth. A jeer begun at the back of the First, but Percy whirled around so fast it died in the throat of whoever had started it. He would reprimand them later.

 

“With all our officers present,” Jason said, giving Percy a pointed look, “I’d like to request that we all meet in the Principia. Now. Centurions only.”

 

Percy and Michael exchanged glances at that, but the son of Venus shrugged, and motioned Percy onwards. Before he left, he grabbed Michael’s arm.

 

“When I get back, have Jordan meet with me in my office,” he ordered, “and make sure he knows I’m not happy.”

 

“Old habits die hard, Percy,” Michael informed him, but it wasn’t refusal. Simply advice.

 

“I’m good at killing things, Mikey,” he replied, “bad habits included.”

 

**XxXxX**

“This is cosy,” Percy muttered as they all piled into one of the briefing rooms in the Principia. Larry rolled his eyes and nudged Percy’s elbow.

 

“Easy, chief,” he laughed, “I don’t think Reyna’s big on sharing.”

 

“Thank you for coming,” Reyna said as the Praetors swept into the room, “there’s been an interesting development with the augury. We’ve been investigating it quietly, but we’ve decided it’s time to share what little information we have with you.”

 

“Is this about why Temple Hill shut down a few days ago?” Leila asked with a frown, “I received a few complaints about it from my cohort but figured it happened for a reason.”

 

“It is,” Jason replied, “and it did. While reading the auguries, Octavian pulled intestines out of a Build-a-Bear. Obviously, that should not have been possible. My first thought was a prank, but there was an unnatural amount of guts in it, and Lupa confirmed it to be human. Magic was involved.”

 

“An omen, then?” Percy ventured, mind instantly racing to the daughter of Pluto.

 

“We’re convinced it is,” Jason said, “but Octavian and I agree that Hazel has nothing to do with it.”

 

“Respectfully, Praetor, but the timing is a bit… convenient,” Hank said, crossing his arms. The Centurion of the Third had proven to be a wise leader, and one not afraid to speak his mind. “I’m not claiming Hazel should be shunned for it, or considered differently, but something that morbid, followed by a child of Pluto?”

 

“It could be any god,” Leila countered, “human sacrifice is something even we Romans did once upon a time. Maybe one of them got a little carried away?”

 

“No,” Reyna said, “it’s not Hazel. Octavian’s been scrying for three days trying to get more information and he’s received the same vision every time. Even after Hazel arrived, _after_ we took her to him he had the same vision again. If she is related, it’s incredibly minor, and not the main issue.”

 

“That’s assuming it _is_ an issue,” Larry said. Percy glanced over at him. “It’s an omen, yes, and an incredibly bloody one, but it might not be a _bad_ one. It could be a sign of good fortune to come. Like Leila said, we used to have bloody sacrifices. This could just be an old deity making their favour of the legion known.”

 

“What, like a family spirit?” Gwen asked, “that might be going a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

 

“The only concern I have,” Percy said, “is the implication behind it all. Octavian’s been having the same vision, you don’t think it was about Hazel, which means that it’s about a potential recruit, and it’s one that’s literally told by human guts. Good or bad omen, it’s _important_ , and it’s coming to us, probably sooner rather than later. I can’t imagine something important missing us, not now.”

 

“Our generation has been eventful,” Jason agreed, “and I think you may be right, Percy. But I need confirmation from all of you, here and now, that you’ll make your cohorts understand that Hazel is _one of us_.”

 

“The Fifth has her,” Gwen declared, “and we’ll keep her safe.”

 

“The Fourth had Percy for a few years,” Leila nodded, “we understand what it can be like. You’ll have no issues from us.”

 

“Nor the third,” Hank added.

 

“The Second will obey.”

 

“The First won’t be an issue,” Percy rumbled, “I’ll make sure of it.”

 

“Good,” Reyna declared, “then go to your cohorts and speak with them. If there _are_ any issues, send the offending party to us. We need to make this point as clear as possible.”

 

Percy wasn’t the only one to stiffen at that. It was, of course, the Praetor’s given right to command as they saw fit, but unless the crime was a serious one, most punishment details were handled by the Centurions. Neither Jason nor Reyna were ignorant of the sudden tension, but they stood by their decision, clearly, because they simply stared at the exits. They were in total control. Percy couldn’t deny that he was proud of them. _This_ had been what he had wanted.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyna tracks down her boyfriend, and later, Percy and Octavian have a heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please comment and tell me what you think!

**_Reyna_ **

****

Percy had been working on… something for several days. He still performed his duties, of course, but she had seen very little of him outside of musters, which in itself was unusual. They spent most of their free time together. She still found little notes scrawled in his hand placed around her new house, but how and when he showed up was beyond her. So, deciding to be proactive, she tracked him down. He was in his office in the First’s _castra_ , carefully writing something down onto a sheet of paper. There was a haphazard stack of perhaps four dozen other sheets of paper placed nearby. He had started early then.

 

“What’s this?” She asked him, almost laughing in the way he jerked upright at her sound. Percy hadn’t heard her enter, which astounded her. It wasn’t like she had been quiet coming in. “You alright?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Percy muttered, collecting himself, “I was just… really in the zone, I guess.”

 

“I could tell,” she laughed softly, “what are you writing?”

 

“Just ideas,” he said dismissively, but Reyna was good at reading Percy. She had to be, he was one of the most stubborn people she knew. “Nothing important.”

 

“I feel like there was an unsaid ‘yet’ at the end of that sentence,” she told him with a pointed look.

 

“I’m… organising my thoughts, I guess,” he admitted, “on a whole range of topics. I have six notebooks from my quest that I completely filled out. Most of it’s just idle thoughts, but some are worth remembering. So I’m going through them, structuring them, fixing them, stuff like that.”

 

“May I?” She asked, indicating to the pile of papers. Percy hesitated, and she almost withdrew her request.

 

“Let me finish this up,” he said, “and then you can read the whole thing, start to finish. Sound fair?”

 

“I suppose,” she shrugged, “it’s your work, you’d know better than I would.”

 

“You’re the best,” he told her earnestly, “once I’m done with this, I’m all yours, I promise.”

 

“I thought you already were?” She teased, “or have your thoughts driven you away from me?”

 

Percy just chucked an empty pen at her. It was meaningless, but the fact that he had an empty pen to throw at her in the first place told her how much writing he was doing. He hadn’t been completely honest with her then. This wasn’t the organisation of some loose thoughts. He was… he was _codifying._ She remembered his third letter to her, when he told her that he was considering it. Now that he had the time, he was doing exactly that.

  
Reyna perched herself on the edge of his desk and watched him work. The x-shaped scar on his cheek was pale now, a stark contrast from his tan, Mediterranean skin tone. The burns on his arms were almost completely healed but judging from the way that Percy had to stop, extend his fingers, and rotate his arm, there was still some minor pain. Or more likely, she realised, he had been doing so much writing his arms were cramping up. His hair, normally kept at a moderately short length, had grown out while he was unconscious, and he hadn’t cut it since he awoke, so now it was long and swept back, like there was a constant breeze blowing at him. All in all, Reyna had to admit that he looked like a hot nerd.

 

Thirty minutes later, he finished the last page, grabbed the stack, and began organising it. He shuffled papers in and out of place, scratching in words here and there as he already began editing it in his mind, before he finally stopped, looking pleased with himself.

 

“It’s only a rough draft,” he said sheepishly, “but given time, I do think it could be something.”

 

She took the manuscript in hand and scanned the first page. _Theories on Reforms for the Military Strategies of the Twelfth Legion_ was its title, and she was intrigued to see what Percy thought could be improved. He had a mind for this sort of thing, and training with Lupa and Salacia had only reinforced it. The first few pages were simple explanations about the history of the Roman Legions, from the days of Romulus to the fall of the Western Empire. No, not explanations. Justification for his reforms. Even in his private thoughts, Percy was explaining himself to others. She kept reading, each idea more and more interesting as she went through.

 

“Independent cohort actions?” She asked aloud, “fast moving units capable of operating in the field for weeks at a time, tracking down monsters across states? Percy, what inspired this?”

 

“A few things,” he answered, his voice measured, but Reyna saw past that. He was nervous. His left foot was tapping a marching cadence, and his right hand mirrored it, drumming on the desk, “the Mongol army was one. In forty years, they conquered the second largest empire in history. They conquered more territory in forty years than we did in four hundred!”

 

“And how long did those conquests last?” Reyna asked him.

 

“Not long,” he conceded, “but the point is that it happened! The legion is an archaic system used because we value tradition. But we can honour tradition and still move forward with the rest of the world without insulting our heritage.”

 

“I’m not arguing against this, Percy,” she said, “these are good ideas—really good ideas. I’m just trying to get a little insight into your mind. You’re proposing that the Cohorts be given a theatre of operation in the United States—all west of the Appalachians, of course—that would allow us to essentially control the continent for the demigods. These aren’t _minor_ reforms. These would take years to accomplish and would require the legion to expand exponentially in number, numbers we don’t have!”

 

“I know that,” Percy replied, “that’s why I was never going to do anything with these. They’re ideas, is all.”

 

“So it’s what? A thought exercise?” She asked with a frown. Percy wasn’t prone to doing things without a good reason, especially if they wouldn’t have a return.

 

“This one is,” he nodded, “that’s why I didn’t expect much to come from it.”

 

“This one?” The words were, as with everything about Percy, precise. “There are others? This isn’t what you’ve been working on for these past days?”

 

“No, this is what I started working on this morning, _those_ ,” he motioned to a corner of the room, “are what I’ve been doing for the past few days.”

 

Reyna craned her neck to see what he was referring to, and it took her a moment to accept what she was looking at. Six other stacks of paper just as large as the one she was holding were placed neatly next to each other on a cabinet. Each one had a title equally as impressive as the one he had finished today. Gods, he had been busy.

 

“May I?” She asked, and Percy nodded.

 

She didn’t read them—that would take time that she didn’t have, but she scanned each title. _Reformations for the Cohort, Expansion in New Rome, Power and Politics, Religious Life in New Rome, Small Unit Tactics,_ and _Standardisation for the Legion_ were pretty self-explanatory. Her breath caught on the last one and she felt her heart flutter. _Reasons That I Love Reyna_ , it was titled, and it was larger than any of the others had been. Percy ghosted behind her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

 

“That one’s a work in progress,” he said, his chest vibrating against her back as he spoke, “I kept making lists while I was gone, and then, when I got back, I kept finding reasons to keep expanding it. It’s going to be my magnum opus, I think.”

 

“You, sir, are ridiculously romantic,” Reyna told him breathlessly, leaning back into his body as he wrapped his arms around her. “You’re lucky that I like that part of you so much.”

 

“I guess I am,” Percy chuckled, a deep rumble that started in his chest, “but like I said before, once I finished that paper, I was all yours. And I am yours to command, Praetor.”

 

“Dinner” she told him, spinning around so that she was facing him. Still, the proximity forced her to look up at him. Tall as she was for a girl her age, Percy was taller still, having reached about six foot four. Jason had recently had a growth spurt, and the Son of Jupiter beat him by an inch. Only Michael Kahale was taller than them. “Tonight, at my house.”

 

“You do know that neither of us can cook, right?” He asked her, tilting his head down to look at her, “like, we’re both _really_ bad at it.”

 

“We’ll figure it out,” she told him, not willing to concede. “And wear something nice. I feel like being spoiled tonight. I expect you to look sharp.”

 

“Would you go as far to say that you want to be treated as a _queen_?” Percy grinned at her. Reyna let out a sigh. Someone had let slip that her name was close to the Spanish word for queen, and now Percy and Jason wouldn’t leave her alone about it. The worst part had been when she walked into a Senate Meeting, and Jason intoned for ‘all to rise for the queen.’ Not all had understood the joke, but the thought of upsetting the Son of Jupiter _and_ Neptune was too much for many, and they rose without question.

 

“I’d go as far to say that you’re about to get punched in the face,” she warned him. Percy just laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “What have you got planned?”

 

“Gwen and I are meeting to discuss ways to mend the relationship between the First and the Fifth,” he told her, “The First like me, but even with Jason as Praetor, the Fifth is still seen as a pariah. I’m seeing what I can do to fix that.”

 

Reyna arched an eyebrow at him, earning a shrug from Percy.

 

“I was in the Fourth,” he reminded her, “we weren’t seen as much better than the Fifth. We fought hard to be known as a good cohort. So has the Fifth, but they don’t have much to show for it. People respect Jason. They don’t respect the Fifth. Not yet.”

 

It was at times like this that Reyna was amazed by her boyfriend. She had told Jason that Percy always kept an eye open for favours he could gain, but there were times when he could just be so selfless that it surprised her. He was both a great Roman and a terrible Roman at the same time. He did what he wanted, yes, but he also payed lots of homage to the traditions of their people.

 

“Gwen’s a solid leader,” she decided on, “the two of you will come up with something, I know it.”

 

“Of course we will,” Percy grinned, “we’re centurions. We didn’t come to our position through luck.”

 

“I mean…” she trailed off, and Percy gave her a light shove.

 

“Get out of here,” he laughed, “I’ll see you tonight. Seven?”

 

“Seven,” she confirmed, “don’t be late.”

 

She strolled out, a skip in her step that hadn’t been there before. She didn’t normally allow herself to be seen so happy, but sometimes, with Percy, she couldn’t help it. They were too similar, a comparison that had been made dozens of times before, and at times, they brought something better out of each other. This was one of those times.

 

Naturally, her happiness lasted all of five minutes. The moment she crossed into New Rome, she was greeted by easily the last person she wanted to have any type of conversation with.

 

“Miss Marlow,” she greeted neutrally, “if you wish to meet with me, make an appointment. Otherwise, I have jobs that need to be done.”

 

“Of-of course, Praetor,” Marlow replied, but didn’t stop talking, “I was just hoping that perhaps you could help me get my old position at the Senate back?”

 

 _That_ made Reyna stop her in her tracks. She turned to face Marlow. She wasn’t very old, in her mid-twenties, but her family had been in New Rome since the eighteen hundreds’—clearsighted mortals who had the fortune—or misfortune—of stumbling across Camp Jupiter. During the Spanish-American War, the legion had a desperate need for soldiers, and her ancestor had been drafted. It was a badge of honour for the few mortal families in the city, but no one, not the demigods nor the legacies, thought them to be anything special. Marlow, however, had campaigned on her ancestry. And while no one had run against her, it had won her the votes of some of the mortals.

 

“Now, why, exactly, would I do that?” Reyna asked her, “Lupa was very clear in her orders, and my fellow Praetor and I will not countermand her.”

 

“But Praetor—” Marlow began.

 

“But _nothing_ ,” Reyna cut her off sharply, “not only did you insult a centurion of the legion, _my_ legion, the one you just happened to choose to accuse of treason is my _boyfriend_. The absolute last thing on my mind is helping you achieve some grand idea of power that you think you would be able to gain as a senator. The fact that you would try to disregard the ruling of a _goddess_ concerns me very much. Be aware, Miss Marlow, that we will be watching you closely from now on. _Very_ closely.”

 

Reyna would later deny that she enjoyed the verbal smackdown she gave the woman, but at that exact moment? She was very, very proud of herself.

 

**XxXxX**

**_Percy_**

 “I heard that Jordan’s on latrine duty for a month,” Gwen commented idly, as their server, a legacy of Venus doing her damnedest to draw Percy’s attention, brought their food. “And, believe it or not, I’ve not heard a single insult from any member of the First directed at my cohort since Hazel joined.”

 

“Funny how that works, isn’t it?” Percy replied with a lazy smile, “they’re still assholes, but hopefully I can train them out of being _huge_ assholes. Maybe by the time I retire, the First will treat the Fifth no differently than they treat each other.”

 

“Lofty aspirations,” the blonde praised, “I look forward to seeing it play out.”

 

“As do I,” he muttered, “but in the meantime, we need to figure out how to get our Cohorts getting along. I have an idea, but it would be up to the Praetor’s to allow it.”

 

Gwen, for her credit, caught on quickly. She was a sharp one, and would make a fine centurion, that much Percy already knew.

 

“War games together?” She guessed, “The First and the Fifth against everyone else?”

 

“For a few months, at least,” Percy confirmed, “long enough for the bad blood to start going away. It’ll take time, but if we force them to be together…”

 

“It could start the process,” Gwen nodded. “I agree with you. Do you want me to come with you to speak with the praetors?”

 

“I think you should put the motion forward,” he said slyly, “publicly. Let me be seen supporting _you_ , not the other way around.”

 

“Oh, you _are_ devious,” Gwen laughed, “I can see why Reyna likes you so much. As well as the other girls.”

 

“Only Reyna’s opinion matters to me,” Percy said automatically, and proudly, “the rest are just… wind.”

 

“And look at that,” Gwen laughed again, “she’s trained you well.” Percy stiffened in response, “or maybe, it’s just who you are,” Gwen mused, “I’m not sure yet.”

 

“Watch and decide for yourself then,” Percy shrugged, “but I think you’ll find that Reyna and I are very much alike. It’s less training and more… compatibility, I guess?”

 

“‘Compatibility’ he says,” Gwen chuckled dryly, “the children of Venus have another word for it, you know.”

 

“So I’ve been told,” Percy sighed, “Soulmates. What an interesting concept.”

 

“You don’t disagree?”

 

“I neither agree nor disagree,” Percy informed her, “there’s so much about mortal existence that we don’t know. Could the _Parcae_ have chosen a person who we’re destined to fall in love with? Maybe. Or maybe we’re free to choose who we love. I don’t know, and I never will, but what I do know? Being with Reyna feel’s _right_ to me.”

 

“Very passionate speech,” Gwen said, before her gaze darkened, “watch out, Octavian’s inbound.”

 

Percy let out a deep sigh and waited for the augur to arrive. He had to weave his way through the tables in the café, and when he arrived, he seemed out of breath.

 

“ _Primus_ _Pilus_ , _Hastatus Prior_ ,” he greeted them, “I’m uhm, I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch. Would it be possible to speak with you later, Percy?”

 

“Centurion Jackson,” Gwen snapped at him, but Percy lifted a hand lazily.

 

“It’s fine,” he said, “the augury is an esteemed position. I’m honoured he would address me by my forename. We can speak in the afternoon. I have an appointment at seven, so I’ll need to be done at least an hour before then. Is that acceptable?”

 

“Of course, Centurion,” Octavian shifted nervously, “again, my apologies for the interruption.”

 

And then he was gone, melting back into the crowds of people.

 

“What did you _do_ to him?” Gwen asked in amazement, “I’ve only ever seen Octavian be that polite to Lupa.”

 

“We came to an understanding,” Percy replied simply, “we… _respect_ the different positions we hold.”

 

“You threatened him, didn’t you?”

 

“Oh yeah, very much so.”

 

“Well,” Gwen drawled, “part of me feels like reminding you that the Augur is sacrosanct, but the other part of me wants to congratulate you.”

 

“Let’s just… leave it be, why don’t we?” Percy offered, “Octavian’s behaving, the rule of the Praetors is strong, and we’re working on creating inter-cohort cohesion. Let’s celebrate _that_.”

 

“Brilliant idea,” Gwen praised, raising her glass, “to the First!”

 

“To the Fifth!” Percy replied, clinking his cup to hers.

 

**XxXxX**

 

The suit wasn’t his. Percy didn’t _own_ a suit, so when he found one laid out on his bed, he knew something was up. There was a note atop of it, and he looked around the room, trying to figure out how it had gotten in. His room had no windows, and he always locked the door when he left, so either someone had broken in, or they had apparated inside his room. The former was disconcerting. The latter was disturbing.

 

The note was simple and told him everything he needed to know.

 

_She said look sharp._

_\--V_

Percy had yet to meet Venus, but this reeked of her influence. Still, it _was_ a nice suit, and who was he to turn a gift away? Still, he had to meet with Octavian before he could get ready for his dinner, and while he didn’t want to, he knew he had to. The Augur had been nervous beyond simply talking to Percy. Something was clearly wrong.

 

Temple Hill was, as always, busy. Demigods and legacies payed respect to their parents or ancestors, while the mortals went to venerate the gods. Percy, as always, visited his father’s little shack-shrine. There were no cobwebs anymore—there hadn’t been for years, and he had replaced the mouldy fruit with a little figurine of his father he had commissioned a smith to build. Every feature had been described immaculately, and the smith had almost brought his father alive in the sculpture. There was only one thing he couldn’t properly convey. The eyes. No matter how hard he tried, the son of Vulcan hadn’t been able to bring his father’s eyes to life, like they had been when they talked in Atlantis.

 

“Perseus,” Octavian’s quiet voice interrupted his prayers as he knelt at the foot of his father’s alter. “I’m sorry to disturb, but…”

 

“Something’s bothering you,” he interrupted, standing up, “and that _does_ concern me, believe it or not, Octavian. I don’t like you. I think you’re ambitious beyond belief, but you love Rome, and that’s good enough for me. So, what’s wrong that you couldn’t go to the Praetors?”

 

“I’ve… had a vision,” he said slowly, “about you.”

 

Percy turned around slowly. Octavian was shuffling nervously, as if he expected to be attacked again. Come to think of, he probably was, considering their last meeting.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Percy said softly, “tell me about it.”

 

“I was reading the stuffing’s” Octavian said slowly, “and I saw you, striding into an army of monsters, tearing them apart with blade and powers both.”

 

“Not Orthys?”

 

“The Field of Mars,” the augur admitted, “but that wasn’t all. I saw the legion kneeling before you. I saw you plated in armour worthy of an Augustus, wielding weapons forged by gods. You were… I’m not even sure what you were.”

 

Percy’s heart skipped a beat. There was no way that he knew about… no, no it was impossible. Juno had assured him that they would remain hidden until the time came, and she even warned him that it might not happen in his lifetime.

 

“Are you sure it was… genuine?” Percy asked carefully, “it wasn’t… I dunno, fear induced?”

 

“That’s not how the auguries work, Percy,” Octavian sighed, “I’m… I’m keeping this to myself for now. It may not come to pass, but I thought you should know. It’s not something the legion needs right now.”

 

“That’s… remarkably mature of you, Octavian,” Percy noted, “this… vision of yours. Were you in it?”

 

“I… I was,” Octavian admitted, “I was… I was the first to kneel. It bothered me because—well, because I would.”

 

And yet another thing that caught Percy off guard.

 

“What?”

 

“Percy, respectfully, you’re easily the most powerful person here. Not even the Praetors could stop you if you wanted to assume power,” Octavian told him. “Romans respect power more than anything else. I’ve seen you interact with the others. They respect you, and you respect them in turn. You don’t make anyone do anything you wouldn’t, and the people love you for it. I can never be that for them. Despite us not really… trusting your father, you’ve made us respect him,” Octavian indicated to his own crooked nose, “and you’ve made them _love_ you without even trying. You’re a force to be reckoned with. You’re… you’re essentially what my namesake was before he became Augustus. Someone the people trusted to accomplish things. Someone the people would follow, even though you aren’t _officially_ in charge. I… was jealous of you growing up, but by the gods, Percy, I can’t help but admire you. There’s no point in trying to challenge you, because that’s not only political suicide, but it might be _actual_ suicide.”

 

Percy didn’t know how to reply to that. Octavian had essentially just told him that _if_ Percy were to attempt a coup, he would possibly support him. That the _augur_ , one of the most powerful people in New Rome would do that said massive amounts. Percy was trying to formulate a response when Michael burst into the shrine, causing Octavian to whirl around in a panic. Percy’s _optio_ didn’t so much as blink at the Augur’s presence, his own eyes wide with panic.

 

“Michael? What’s wrong?” He asked him.

 

“It’s Jason!” Michael cried out, “he’s gone missing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well god damn we did it folks. We made it to the end of a story that was already finished when I started posting it. I'll wait a few days before I post the first chapter of Filii Deorum, but i'm only about five chapters into that one, working on the sixth, so it won't take very long to catch up. I hope you enjoyed Vas Bellicosum!

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my Roman AU for Percy. It's based off of a story I wrote when I first started writing, called Son of Neptune, but this story is radically different from it. I originally posted this on Fanfiction, but there's a severe lack of Preyna stories on AO3, so I decided to add my own to the mix. This story is finished, and I'll add each chapter every few days or once a week, until we're all caught up. Then I have a sequel that I'm working on. I hope y'all enjoy.


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